


Love, Lies & Lizard Babies

by PoorQueequeg



Category: Sanctuary (TV)
Genre: F/M
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2011-11-06
Updated: 2012-05-09
Packaged: 2017-10-25 18:05:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 11
Words: 31,276
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/273198
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/PoorQueequeg/pseuds/PoorQueequeg
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Helen is on a solo mission to make contact with a man struggling to come to terms with his abnormal abilities and teams up with an unlikely ally along the way.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Dust swirled in the shafts of sunlight that streamed through the dirty windows of the loft. It was a wide, empty space above a disused warehouse, tall metal pillars jutting up from the floor to the sloping tin roof. Against one of the pillars a man slouched forward unconscious, his arms held against his sides by a frayed old rope that looped three times around his body, pinning him against the cold steel. Helen had been forced to improvise, seating her prisoner on a broken chair with no back and leaning him against the pillar before securing him as best she could with whatever she could find lying around. She stood back to admire her handiwork before setting about rifling through the man's pockets for some clue as to his identity.

“I usually like to know a woman's name before we get this far,” a voice drawled lazily into her ear. Helen stood quickly upright, putting some distance between herself and her prisoner. Groggily, he raised his head, twisting his neck from side and trying to move his arms up and down. Helen reached for her gun, pointing it at him and hitched a shoulder.

“I think perhaps given the situation you ought to tell me who you are?” she said with a quirk of her brow. The man squinted at her slightly, his face twisting into a grimace as he squirmed in the seat, the broken slats of the chair digging into his back. “And why you're following me?” He raised his head, meeting her eyes and quirked a brow back, giving her a slight smile.

“Alright,” he said after a long moment. “Since you asked so nicely. I'm Jason.” Helen tipped her head to the side.

“Jason,” she repeated slowly, her gun still aimed at his head. He licked his lips, his jaw working up and down a few times as he considered his reply.

“That's right,” he answered, letting his eyes flick up and down over her body before coming back to rest on her face. “And you are?” Helen paused for a moment as she looked at him, his handsome features smudged with grime no doubt from when he'd hit the floor after the butt of her gun connected with the back of his head. Her gaze fell to his full lips and the rugged fuzz of his goatee and she wondered idly how it might feel against her skin.

“Why are you following me?” she asked tersely, pushing the thought away. Jason pursed his lips.

“I could ask you the same thing.” Helen shook her head slightly.

“I don't know what you're talking about. I've never seen you before in my life,” she replied. Jason attempted to shrug his shoulders, wincing as the hard metal of the pillar behind his back pressed into the bone.

“You been asking a lot of questions, lady. Getting into all sorts of thing you ain't got no business getting into,” he replied, raising her chin to meet her stare. Helen regarded him for a moment through slitted eyes and he raised his brows at her questioningly.

“Such as?” she asked. Jason looked across the dusty floor, his eyes flicking about to see if there was anything he could use to his advantage.

“Such as my brother,” he told her, letting out a huff of breath in frustration at the situation. Helen slowly lowered the gun and took a step closer.

“Your brother?” she asked sceptically.

“Hmm mmm,” Jason replied with a nod of his head. “Christopher?” Helen tilted her head to the side and looked at him hard. He gave her a dazzling smile, the corners of his eyes crinkling as they sparkled at her. She nodded in return.

“Yes, I suppose I can see the resemblance. Although he has a little more hair,” she told him. Jason chuffed out a breath of amusement.

“Ha, he's still a kid,” he told her with a smirk. “Now you wanna tell me why you been asking questions about him?”

Helen raised her chin and glanced out of the dirty window beside her. “I want to help him. And if you're really his brother you would too.”

Jason drew his chin up sharply, his face morphing from amused to angry. “You don't know me and you don't know my brother. This ain't none of your business lady.”

Helen turned back to him. “I know he's special, that he's different. And I know he's in trouble.” Jason clenched his jaw and regarded her sternly.

“He ain't your problem.” Helen pursed her lips and let out a sigh. These Americans could be so stubborn, she thought to herself.

“I can help him,” she repeated gently, stepping closer. Slowly she lowered herself to a squatting position in front of him. “Please, if you know where he is you have to tell me.” Jason pulled his head up slowly and looked her her through half closed eyes. Helen met his gaze, her expression mild and earnest. “Jason,” she said in a whisper, slowly placing her palm on his knee. He swallowed and let out a slow sigh.

“Alright,” he said in a low voice. Helen's shoulders fell slightly and she let out a sigh of relief. She leant her weight on his leg and began to push herself up. At that moment Jason's arms came up and clutched her shoulders in a hard grip, the old rope falling to the floor in a cloud of dust. Helen let out a yelp of surprise as she found herself shoved back against the dusty wooden boards, her head connecting hard with the floor. She looked up at him, his face blurring as he towered over her.

“Shit!” he uttered as she lost consciousness.

Some time later, Helen came around to find herself bound against the pillar, only she was on the floor with her legs were stretched out before her, her ankles tied with what appeared to be Jason's belt. Raising her head she found him sitting on the broken chair, one leg bent over the other as he bounced her gun lightly on his knee. She blinked slowly, her mouth falling open. Jason gave her an apologetic smile and shrugged. Helen leant her head back against the pillar and let out a hiss as the back of her head throbbed at the contact.

“Ah....yeah...sorry about that. I didn't mean to shove you so hard,” Jason told her. She glared at him with a sour expression. He gave her a toothy grimace and dropped his feet back squarely on the floor. “Now, you wanna tell me who you are and what you really want from my brother?”

Helen huffed and squirmed against the restraints, her ankle bones pressing uncomfortably together. “Very well,” she replied. “My name is Helen Magnus. I'm a doctor. I help people, people like your brother.”

Jason nodded slowly. “A doctor? I see,” he said, the disbelief evident in his tone. “No offence, lady but I don't know too many doctors who carry a gun. Let's try again shall we?” Helen huffed in frustration.

“I'm not like other doctors,” she told him.

“That, I can see,” he replied with a grin, his eyes flicking up and down her prone form. Helen shifted her legs under his appraising gaze.

“Listen, Jason,” she said acidly. “I know all about your brother's problems. He came to me, he asked me to help him. Now if you would kindly untie me, perhaps we could discuss this in a civilized manner somewhere a little more salubrious.”

Jason gawped at her. “Hah!” he exclaimed. “That's rich! You punch me out, tie me up and point a gun at me and now you wanna talk about being civilized?”

“Oh for pity's sake,” Helen snapped. “What did you expect? You've been following me all day, how did you think I was going to react?” He rolled his eyes in frustration.

“Listen, Doctor,” he replied, rising to his feet and stepping towards her. Helen clenched her jaw and raised her chin unafraid, looking him in the eye as he spoke. “You better tell me what you're really doing here and who you work for, because my patience is wearing thin.” Helen shifted against her restraints. Jason cocked an eyebrow at her and she sighed.

“Alright,” she conceded. “But please, untie my legs at least. It hurts and I can't feel my feet,” she pleaded in her most pathetic tone. Jason swallowed and crouched down, placing the gun beside him and after a moment's consideration began to unbuckle the belt. Helen let out a sigh of relief. “Oh, thank you,” she told him with a soft, plaintive smile, twisting her ankles around and around. He turned his head to the side, reaching for the gun and Helen raised her foot hard and fast, the tip of her boot smacking into his chin.

“Shit! Ah!” he cried, falling back onto his ass, the gun skittering across the room. Helen side swiped with her other foot, smacking her boot into his head and he fell, sprawling across the floor. Pushing up on her feet, Helen squirmed and staggered upright levering herself against the pillar. She began to wriggle wildly, the ropes around her body slipping gradually down her body and over her hips. She rocked from side to side hard, trying to loosen them enough to get them down her legs.

Jason pushed himself up on his hands, taking a moment to shake his head before rising to his feet. He turned towards her, arms extended out in front of him to grasp at her shoulders just as Helen managed to get her arms free. She swung her fist out and punched him squarely on the jaw. He reeled slightly and she followed it with another blow to his solar plexus. Winded he staggered back, hunched forward to clutch at his stomach as he took several short gasping breaths. Helen quickly shoved the ropes down over her knees and stepped forward, barging him with her shoulder and knocking him onto his back. She leapt to the side, going for the gun when his hand shot up and grabbed her ankle. She fell face first to the ground with a loud “Oof!” as the wind was knocked out of her. Jason tugged on her leg and pulled himself up, his other hand pinning her thigh to the floor as he moved over her. She squirmed frantically beneath him, pushing herself forward on her elbows towards the gun. Her fingers grasped at the cool metal and just as Jason climbed over her. She clutched it tightly and managed to roll under him, her arm swinging upwards and the side of the gun cuffing him hard on the ear.

“Ah!” he bellowed, listing to the side. Helen carried on rolling and straddled his torso, gripping the gun in both hands and shoving the barrel into his face.

“Enough!” she yelled and he froze. They glared at each other, both breathing hard.

“Okay, okay,” he conceded, his hands falling to the floor either side of his head. “Don't shoot!” Helen clenched her jaw in anger.

“I've had just about all I can stand from you, Jason!”

“Jay is fine,” he chuffed. She tilted her head to the side, one elegant eyebrow arching in irritation. He gave her a cheeky smile and let his eyes run over her body, her jacket pulled ever so tightly across her heaving chest, a lock of dark wavy hair stuck adorably to her lower lip. He stared into her eyes and found them to be impossibly wide and blue as she sat astride his stomach, rising and falling with each breath he took.

“Fine. Jay,” she said angrily. “Now, I don't care what you think of me or who you think I am. Your brother, if he really is your brother...” Jason huffed in indignation. “He came to me for help. I know all about his abilities and I know all about his problems. If you really care about him, you'll get over your mistrust and help me find him!”

“He never said a word to me, he never mentioned you at all. As far as I know, you're one of them!” Jay responded bitterly. Helen sighed but her grip on the gun didn't waver.

“It's the truth, Jay,” she told him firmly, staring right into his eyes as she spoke. Jay clenched his jaw an regarded her coolly for a long minute.

“He woulda told me,” he said quietly after a while. “He woulda said...”

Helen blinked slowly. “Maybe he didn't want to disappoint you. I don't know. He never said he had a brother. I thought you were looking for him to kill him,”

“So that's why you lead me on a merry dance all around the city,” Jay stated, his demeanour defeated. “Figures. I can't imagine someone like you working for the mob.”

“Someone like me?” Helen said defensively with a tilt of her chin. He smiled.

“An upright, proper Brit like you?” Jay told her, amused.

“I never really cared for that epithet, thank you,” she told him sternly, jerking the gun in his face. He flinched.

“Gee, I'm sorry! I won't say it again!”

“Good,” Helen replied. “Now, I'm going to get up and you are not going to try and take my gun, or hit me. Do you understand?” Jason nodded. Slowly, she pushed up from him, the gun never leaving his face. Jason watched appreciatively as the fabric of her pants tightened over her thighs as she rose, impressed by her strength. Gently she stepped back from him, keeping the gun extended in front of her. Jason pushed himself to a sitting position, his arms stretched out behind him. “Now get up. Slowly,” Helen commanded. Jason pulled himself to his feet and kept his hands raised by the side of his head.

“Okay, okay, don't shoot doc,” he told her, straightening up. “Now what?”

Helen took a few slow, deep breaths, her mind working rapidly. “Well, either you can help me, or I can make sure you don't get it my way. I made your brother a promise and I intend to keep it.” Jason had experienced enough this afternoon to take her threat seriously.

“Okay, well, I made a promise too. To my mother before she died,” he replied quietly. Helen nodded and slowly lowered her gun. “Now, if you don't mind, I'd like to put my belt back on before my pants fall down.”

Helen narrowed her eyes and raised the gun again. “Alright but you try anything and I will shoot you.” Jay jerked his head to the side and raised an eyebrow at her.

“Of that I have no doubt,” he said taking a slow step across the room and stooping to pick up his belt. Helen couldn't help from admiring the way his jeans tightened over his ass as he bent forward or noticing the flex of his stomach muscles as he hoisted his t-shirt out of the way to loop his belt through his pants. He certainly was easy on the eye, she admitted silently as he dropped his arms to his sides and looked at her. “What now?” he asked, swiping the palm his hand over his beard to clear the dust.

Helen swallowed. “Now you tell me where your brother is,” she answered. Jason shrugged his shoulders and turned his face towards the ceiling in frustration.

“I don't know. He hasn't been home for a couple of days now. I've been out of my mind.”

Helen turned to the window, peering through the smeared grime and staring at the roof a building in the distance. “Damn,” she muttered. “He was supposed to meet me. When he didn't show, I guessed they'd got to him already.” She turned back to Jason, his face grave. “Is there anywhere he could have gone? Anyone he might have turned to?”

“You think I didn't turn this city upside down looking for him already?” he replied tersely. “I already tried almost everyone I know.”

“Almost everyone?” Jay scowled at her and Helen scowled right back.

“I need to get back to my hotel, touch base with my people,” she said with irritation.

“Your people?” Jay asked sourly.

Helen raised her chin and looked him in the eye. “I'm not the enemy, I told you. I only want to help.”

“Why?” Jason shook his head incredulously.

“Like I said, it's what I do.”

“You help people. People who are different. People like my brother.” He tilted his head to the side, but the anger had gone from his voice.

“That's right,” she replied. They locked gazes and Jason stared at her intently for a long moment. This woman simply exuded trouble but there was something sincere about her.

“Okay, so help then.”

Helen clenched her jaw, this man was already driving her to distraction. She had absolutely no doubt that he would do nothing but get in her way but she was sorely lacking in back up and he knew the city at least. It had absolutely nothing to do with his charming smile and his scruffy beard, nothing at all.

“Alright,” she said, irritated and turned briskly towards the door. Jason shook his head and let his eyes fall to her ass as he followed her out.


	2. Chapter 2

Outside, they walked across the cracked tarmac yard and down an alleyway between two shabby buildings until they reached a sagging chain fence. Jason stopped as they approached their exit and pulled at the wire where it came loose from a crooked concrete post.

"Ladies first," he said with a smirk and a bow. Helen scowled at him before she stooped to step through the overgrown weeds and onto the pavement on the other side. A couple of hundred yards later they emerged onto a street bustling with people and the honking of traffic. Jason smacked his lips together, his mouth woolly from thirst but he said nothing as Helen turned and gave him a look.

"So where first?" he asked her with a shrug as they meandered down the street.

"You said you'd checked with almost everyone. Who did you miss?" Jason worried his lower lip.

"There's a place he'd go, a dive bar on the other side of town. I always hated it but Chrissy liked it, said he felt at ease there."

"The Beer Engine?" Helen asked. Jason stopped jerked his head back.

"You know it? I got the impression you weren't from around here."

"I know enough," she replied continuing down the side walk. "I was told about it but haven't had the chance to get to that side of the city yet. I got somewhat sidelined," she told him icily. He narrowed his eyes at her. She sniffed and carried on down the street. Stopping outside the subway station, Helen turned to face him.

"It's hot and I'm thirsty," she confessed and he nodded in agreement. It was hard work stalking a beautiful woman. "Shall we get something to drink?" Helen raised that brow again and he found it impossible to say no.

They took the train across town, their bodies pressing together in the packed car as it bumped along. The wheels screeched against the rails and Jason stared down at her face to find himself hypnotised by her wide, blue eyes and the loud click clack of the train in the darkened tunnel. Helen stared back, cocooned by his broad chest and toned arms, her eyes flicking from his face to the corded muscles of his neck and biceps. At their stop she gripped his forearm tightly, her nails digging into his flesh and the hairs on his skin tickling her palm as they squeezed through the crowded platform towards the exit.

He squinted at the bright sunlight as they emerged onto the street and turned to see the enigmatic doctor slide a pair of Raybans from her pocket and onto her face. He felt unbearably shabby beside her, despite the fact that she had spent as much time rolling in the dust as he had. She had money, of that he had no doubt. Some ladeedah British lady with stacks of cash – he couldn't help but wonder what someone like her was doing trawling through the seedy underbelly of the city looking for her brother of all people. Who was she and what did she really want from Chris? The questions swirled in his mind and made his head spin under the hot sun.

They reached The Beer Engine after what seemed like forever. It was dark and dank inside the bar and it was utter bliss to be out of the sun. The barman, Joe, nodded in his direction and Helen tilted her head at him questioningly. "I been here a few times," he explained. "It was really Chrissy's place though." She nodded and ran her eyes around the room taking in the shabby leather clad biker in the corner and the pierced couple with dyed hair locked in a clinch against the wall before slipping elegantly onto a stool at the bar.

Joe the barman approached. "What can I do you for?"

"Water with ice," Helen said in a commanding tone. "And a beer." Jason raised his eyebrows before nodding at Joe and raising two fingers. Helen swivelled her seat to watch the other customers as he sat down beside her. When Joe returned with their drinks she immediately picked up the cold beer and took a few long gulps as Jason stared.

"What?" she demanded as he watched. He shrugged.

"I guess I shouldn't be surprised that you drink beer but it doesn't seem to fit somehow."

"I see," she replied staring forward and picking up the bottle again. "You presume I'd rather be drinking tea?"

Jason snorted into his beer as he drank. "Something like that." Helen rolled her eyes.

"Believe me, there is nothing I would rather be doing on a day like this than to be sitting in my garden drinking a tall glass of Pimms but when in Rome..." He gave her a smile and she returned it with a slight quirk of her lips, staring at his rugged face and his bald pate. They locked gazes for a moment before she coughed and dropped her eyes to the bottle in her hand. Jason turned to the bar, swallowing hard and called Joe back.

"What's up?" he asked in a neutral tone.

"You know my brother?" Jason asked. Joe nodded. "You seen him about?" Joe tipped his head to the side and licked his lips. Helen picked up her water and began to crunch loudly on a piece of ice. Jason turned to look at her for a moment and Joe's eyes flicked over her face before moving back to Joe as he began to speak in a low voice.

"Yeah I seen him. Two days ago. He was talking to that guy over there...don't look!" Jason pursed his lips as Helen slowly swivelled her chair around again and leant her elbows against the bar. His eyes were drawn down her body as she slouched back in the chair, her long legs crossing over one another. She crunched on more ice and idly shook her foot, projecting an aura of boredom.

"Tattoos?" Jason asked under his breath, reaching into his pocket to draw out some money.

"Yeah," Joe muttered taking the bill and turning away. Jason scraped his teeth over his lips and ran his fingers down the side of the beer bottle in his hand.

"Abnormal," Helen muttered and Jason looked her with a quizzical expression. She turned her face to him and slipped her shades down her nose with one finger. "Our friend." Jason furrowed his brow and looked over Helen's shoulder at the tattooed man. "Not sure of the species but he's definitely our guy."

"Abnormal?" he asked confused.

Helen licked her lips and turned around in her seat. "These people that I help, who are different." Jason straightened up.

"You're saying my brother is some kind of freak?" he asked defensively. "He's not. He's special but he's not...abnormal," he spat the word. Helen twisted her face away from him.

"It's just a label, it's not meant to be a judgement," she explained.

"Yeah well it's offensive," Jason complained angrily, his voice rising.

"Don't raise your voice," Helen retorted in hushed tones. "I didn't mean to upset you. It's just a word we use in my line of work."

"Your line of work? What is it exactly that you do and don't tell me you 'help' people. I want the truth!"

Helen let out an exasperated sigh. "I'm a doctor, a scientist. I run a facility that assists.. abnormals..."

"Don't say that!" Jason hissed, twisting his neck around and rolling his eyes.

"...come to terms with their...unique attributes," she finished, clunking her glass down heavily on the bar. Jason turned and looked at her, her big eyes just visible through the dark lenses covering her face.

"Could you be any more cryptic?" Jason exclaimed loudly. In the mirror that lined the back of the bar Helen saw Tattoos raise his head in the space between two bottles. She dipped her head to one side.

"It's not easy to explain and it's certainly not a subject we should discuss in a place like this," she replied through clenched teeth, pulling her shades off and glaring at him.

"Well what exactly would you like to talk about then?" Jay sneered, leaning his face close to hers. "The weather?" Helen ran her tongue over her teeth and cursed inwardly for letting herself get involved with this man. He was clearly an obstinate fool and was no doubt going to get the both of them killed.

She sat upright abruptly and turned in her chair, throwing her arms about his shoulders. "Oh gee honey, I'm sorey," she drawled in a loud American accent. "I don't wanna fight no moah." Jason stared at her agog.

"Funny," he said after a moment and reached up to gently extricate himself from her grip. She leant back in her chair and smirked at him victoriously, tilting the bottle in her hand to her lips.

Out of the corner of his eye, Jason noticed a movement and his gaze flicked over her shoulder. Tattoos stood and staggered towards the back of the bar, disappearing around the corner. Jason set his drink down and began to follow. He entered the men's restroom, wrinkling his nose at the stench as he bent down to check the stalls. Finding them empty he hurried out only to bump into Helen hurrying down the corridor.

"He slipped out the back!" she yelled and Jason spun on his heels to follow her as she dashed past.

They made their way through the alley at the back of the building, trailing past dumpsters full of reeking garbage. In the distance Tattoos appeared from around a corner, cellphone pressed against his ear. He turned and locked eyes with Jason for a moment before turning tail and running down the alleyway. He was fast but Jason was faster and Helen watched impressed as his back disappeared behind some crates. She heard the loud crash of metal hitting concrete and dodged the lid of a trash can as it rolled across her path. Gripping the wall she swung herself around the corner to find her companion in a tussle with their new friend, Jay's hand around his throat. Tattoos was wielding a knife which was pressed against Jason's free hand, the blade digging into the side of his wrist and vivid red trail running down his arm.

"Drop it!" she yelled, pulling her gun and pointing it at them as they scuffled. Tattoos' eyes flicked in her direction and back to Jason, his breath coming out in strangled gasps. The knife slipped from his hand and skittered across the ground. Jason yanked him forward by the neck and spun him around, slamming him hard into the opposite wall.

"What do you know about my brother?" he growled, pressing his uninjured forearm across Tattoos' throat.

"I...I...don't know anything, I swear..." he rasped before letting out a pathetic cough. Helen stepped closer and Jason relaxed his grip somewhat, allowing Tattoos to slide down the wall onto his feet. He hunched forward to take several deep breaths.

"What are you?" Helen asked as he straightened up, her gaze falling on his scaled hands. He turned to her, his eyelids flickering sideways across his face. Jason curled his lip in surprise and took a step back.

"Who wants to know?" Tattoos asked, his voice still rasping but this time not from lack of air.

"Answer the question!" Jason barked. Tattoos looked between them nervously.

"Reptilian," Helen muttered . "Varanid? That's why you've got so many tattoos, to obscure the scales on your body." Tattoos turned sharply, glaring at her hatefully.

"What's it to you, Simian?" Helen merely raised her eyebrows and stepped closer.

"We're looking for a friend, name's Christopher. You know him?" Tattoos regarded her suspiciously, breathing hard.

"Maybe."

"He's my brother, asshole," Jason snapped, angrily shoving Tattoos by the shoulder. He staggered back against the wall and flinched as Jason towered over him with a menacing glare.

"Yeah I seen him, th'other day. He was scared man, he was running."

"Why?" Jason pressed, his eyes never leaving the other man's face. Tattoos eyeballs darted about madly.

"The mob, man," he squealed.

"I want a name," said Jason clenching his fists. Helen's eyes flicked down briefly to watch the drips of blood that fell from his wrist to pool on the ground below. She raised her head as Tattoos spoke.

"He'll kill me man," he whined, his face screwing up with fear.

"And if you don't help us, they'll kill my brother. You call yourself a friend, you tell us what we need to know," Jason explained through gritted teeth. Tattoos took a few deep, shaky breaths, swallowing loudly before he spoke.

"Danny O'Shea, man. He hangs out on the Northside. I swear man, if he finds out you heard this from me, I'm dead. Please..." he babbled.

Jason looked at Helen and she crossed her arms, nodding. Jason turned back to Tattoos.

"If I found out you lied to me..." he threatened. Tattoos nodded furiously.

"I swear man, I swear..."

Jason took a step back and Tattoos began to slide away down the alley, his back pressed firmly against the wall. He watched them for a few moments before turning and sprinting away. Jason began to walk briskly in the opposite direction.

"Oi!" Helen shouted, jogging to catch up with him. "Where are you going?"

"To find that scumbag O'Shea and kick the shit out of him," Jason replied staring ahead.

"On your own, with a buggered wrist? Don't be ridiculous!" Helen exclaimed, reaching out to grab Jason's shoulder and yanking him around to face her. Jason clenched his teeth, breathing heavily.

"Well what do you suggest?" he snapped at her. "You think I'm going to sit around while..."

"I'm suggesting we take a minute to make a proper plan. We can't just march in there." She reached for his hand, twisting it around to look at the cut on his wrist.

"It's just a scratch," he uttered, pulling his arm away.

"No it isn't. I am a doctor," she replied. Jason dropped his eyes and looked at the blood drying down his arm. It had smeared onto his t-shirt and jeans and he sighed loudly, his shoulders sagging. Helen reached into her pocket and pulled out a white handkerchief, pressing it firmly against the wound. "Before we do anything we need to dress this and you need to tell me what you know about this O'Shea character." Jason looked her in the eye and nodded slowly.

"Okay, okay."

"Where do you live?" she asked, her fingers coiling around his wrist and squeezing against the makeshift bandage. Jason grimaced ever so slightly at the sting.

"A ways, I dunno...an hour on foot."

"Huh," Helen uttered. "My hotel is closer." Jason tipped his head to the side and quirked a brow. Helen shook her head with an exasperated sigh and began to walk away. "Are you coming?" she yelled over her shoulder. Jason clicked his tongue inside his cheek and followed.


	3. Chapter 3

Jason couldn't help the whistle that escaped his lips as they walked into the hotel lobby half an hour later. Helen glared at him and hurriedly shoved her jacket over his bloodied arm as they entered, steering him by his uninjured elbow towards the desk. “Don't speak!” she commanded as the receptionist raised her head and gave them a broad, fake smile.

“Doctor Magnus,” she simpered. “Welcome back. I trust you've had a productive day?” To her credit Helen didn't flinch and merely raised her chin proudly.

“Very, thank you. My key if you please, “ she replied haughtily.

“Of course,” the woman at the desk gushed, her eyes dropping to glance at Jay's dusty, blood stained jeans as she rifled through a wooden box on the desk before her. Jason swallowed and let his eyes run across the coving above his head, shifting uncomfortably from one foot to another. “Here you are, Doctor Magnus,” the woman cooed after a moment and Helen reached forward to take a small plastic card from her. “Can I help you with anything else?”

“That will be all thank you,” Helen replied curtly and gripped Jason's arm firmly, turning him bodily towards the elevator.

“Have a pleasant evening, Doctor,” the woman said in a sing song voice as they walked away.

An elderly couple entered the elevator car after them, glowering in distaste at their dishevelled appearance as they shuffled back to make room. The elevator remained stationary for a long minute and Jason met Helen's eyes over the old man's yellow panama hat. She raised a brow at him, tipping her chin ever so slightly.

“Four please,” the old woman said primly and Helen suppressed a chuckle of amusement at Jason's bemused expression, nodding towards the panel beside the door. Jay shrugged and leaned forward, hitting the button before straightening up with a cough as the doors slid shut with a ding.

Helen glanced from side to side, shifting uncomfortably as her gun dug into her hip under her shirt and Jason couldn't help his eyes from falling to her bosom. She narrowed her eyes at him and crossed her arms over her chest as the elevator lurched and began it's slow ascent. He swallowed guiltily and jerked his chin up, focussing instead on the red lights on the panel in front of him. He kept his eyes fixed on the display as the floors rolled by, one, two, three until it finally came to rest on the number four. The doors opened with another ding but the elderly couple didn't move. They stood arm in arm, the old woman holding her purse in a death grip. Jason coughed loudly but they didn't shift.

“Ah, sir...” he began. Helen pursed her lips and turned her head away to hide the grin that had broken out across her face. “SIR!” Jason repeated loudly and the old man startled, whipping his head around and fixing Jason with a look of utter disgust. “I BELIEVE THIS IS YOUR FLOOR, SIR,” Jason said, leaning down close to the man's ear. The old man let out an indignant huff and shifted away abruptly.

“Come along Margaret,” he said, ushering his wife out of the door. Jason gave her a wide, toothy grin and the old woman's face twisted into a fierce scowl as the doors slid shut again. He heaved a sigh that was equal parts relief and irritation. Helen drummed her fingers against her bicep and pressed her tongue against her cheek as the elevator began to move again.

“What?” he asked, wafting his jacket clad arm about. Helen shook her head and gave him an innocent look as he glared at her. Jason blinked slowly and sucked on his teeth with a loud smacking sound. Helen pursed her lips and raised her brows, staring at the floor as she began to rock on the balls of her feet. Raising his arm, Jason lifted her jacket and began to inspect the cut on his wrist, his face scrunching up in discomfort as he peeled back the sodden handkerchief.

“Careful,” Helen chided and clasped her hand around the makeshift bandage. “You'll open it up and we'll have to explain why there's blood all over the place.” Jay tugged his wrist out of her grip with a huff.

“It's fine okay,” he uttered jerking his arm up and glaring at her in response. She tutted at him as the elevator came to a stop and marched out into the corridor.

There were only two doors in the hallway and Helen stopped in front of the one closest to the elevator. She slipped the keycard into the slot, wrenching the handle downwards and rattling the door in irritation as a red light appeared. Yanking the card out, she released the handle before sliding it back in only to be met with another red light. “I miss keys,” she muttered and jabbed at the door with the tip of her boot.

Jason huffed and reached over, taking the card from her hand to open the door himself. She gave him a dirty look as the light turned green and the door opened with a soft click. Inside she turned into the bedroom and pulled her gun from her pants with a sigh of relief, tossing it carelessly onto the bed. Jason stood inside the door gripping his wrist and took a moment to look around the spacious suite. Yup, he thought, definitely loaded.

Helen came back into the room carrying a bag and ushered him into the bathroom, dropping it onto the sink and stuffing the plug into the basin.

“Give me your arm,” she said tersely and Jason complied meekly, dropping her jacket to the floor as she turned on the faucet. He perched on the side of the bath and she set about peeling the bloodstained rag from his skin. Helen began to rinse his arm with water and cotton wool while Jason let his gaze flicker across her face. Her expression was one of intense concentration, her brow furrowed as she worked. He hissed when she dabbed at the cut with alcohol and she raised her eyes to glare at him. “It's fairly deep,” she said after a while, “but I don't think the damage is too severe. How do your fingers feel?”

“Okay,” he said, flexing them slightly.

“Good,” Helen replied and reached into the bag. She applied a butterfly stitch over the cut, squeezing it together and swiping over it with alcohol once more before covering it with a cotton dressing and wrapping a bandage around his wrist. “Which is your gun hand?” she asked casually, turning to drop the soiled balls of cotton wool into the bin.

“My gun hand?” he repeated and she raised her chin to give him an incredulous look. Jason raised his brows at her and worked his jaw back and forth for a second.

“Tell me you've used a gun before,” Helen uttered in disbelief.

“I know how to use a gun, alright,” he answered defensively. He slipped forward off the edge of the bath and stood up, looking at his arm and twisting his wrist around tentatively. Helen stuffed a pair of scissors and a roll of tape back into the bag and zipped it closed.

 

Some time later, Jason was seated on the couch next door turning an empty water bottle over in his hands. He had told her what he knew about O'Shea and Helen was now in the bedroom on the phone, the low tones of her voice wafting through the the gap in the door where she had left it ajar. Jason let his gaze fall to a large black sports bag beside the desk, the zipper slightly open. Turning his head towards the bedroom, he rubbed his lips together and stood, moving slowly towards it. He reached down and tugged the zipper gently until the sides of the bag gaped open fully to reveal the contents. Jason's eyebrows shot up, his forehead crinkling as he bent closer and stuck his fingers inside.

He lifted a short barrelled shot gun to find a hand gun, a Bowie knife in a leather case and a couple of muddy green coloured grenades hidden underneath. He swallowed nervously and looked briefly back at the bedroom the door again. There was another, strange looking gun, a great bulky thing with a wooden handle lined with brass. Unable to rein in his curiosity he ever so gently slid it out from under the other guns, easing them back down into the bag gently with his fingers and turning the thing about in his hand. The end of it looked like a device they used to dock the tails on the sheep on his uncle Bobby's farm when he was a kid. It reminded him of an old barometer or a grandfather clock, somehow antique looking. He raised it to his nose, expecting it to smell of polish.

“What are you doing?” Helen chastised from the bedroom door. Jason jerked the gun away from his face guiltily.

“Uh...I...Uh...” he stammered as she marched across the carpet and snatched it from his hand. She stuffed it back in the bag and lifted it up, glowering at him fiercely. “I'm..ah...wondering what kind of doctor carries a stash like this with her?”

Helen turned away and placed the bag on a console table by the door. “I'll thank you not to rifle through my belongings,” she answered, snatching the stunner from his hand and setting it down on the table before turning to glower at him. He swallowed and gave her a sheepish look and she crossed her arms. “We need a car,” she said matter of factly. “And I'd rather not face the wrath of a rental agency nor have to explain myself to the police when it is inevitably mangled beyond salvation.”

Jason's brows went up again and Helen tilted her chin slightly. “I can get us a car,” he said with a shrug.

“Good,” she answered. He might prove to be of some use after all as she thought as she pulled on a mid-length coat of worn brown leather. Jason's eyes flicked up and down and he quirked his lips in appreciation. She had style, whoever she was. Helen returned the look but her brow furrowed slightly. “You'll need to get out of those clothes,” she told him eyeing the bloodstains. “We don't want to attract any unnecessary attention.”

Jason dropped his eyes to his attire and licked his lips, nodding in agreement. “Alright, well then I need to go home. I can change and find us some transport.”

“Right then,” Helen said, heaving the bag off the table and over her shoulder. “Let's go.”

 

They took the elevator back down to the lobby and Jason kept silent as Helen struggled valiantly with the bag of weapons. She twisted her arms and grimaced, shifting it from one shoulder to the other.

“I can take the bag,” he offered after a while and Helen responded by looking at him through narrowed eyes. He heaved a sigh of breath. “I presume you're going to give me one of those....” he hesitated as the doors opened and a man stepped into the car. “...things....to use at some point, so you may as well just let me carry the damn bag instead of playing the martyr and carrying it yourself,” he finished.

Helen huffed. “I can manage just fine,” she hissed quietly behind the stranger's head.

“Suit yourself,” Jason retorted snarkily, crossing his arms and staring at the ceiling as the elevator began to move again.

The bag clunked heavily against the stone floor mid way between the elevator and the desk and they both flinched at the sound. Conscious of the grenades rattling around inside, he reached down and tugged it from her hand. Helen looked at him sheepishly for a moment before approaching the desk and asking the simpering receptionist to call a cab.

A little while later they pulled up outside a small, timber framed house. The neighborhood wasn't as shabby as Helen was expecting and she was rather surprised at how well kept the garden was. Jason glared at her as she glanced around and jabbed the key in the lock before ushering her inside.

“I'll be right back,” he told her, dropping the bag down carefully in front of the couch and disappearing upstairs. Helen chewed on her lower lip and looked around the room. There was a mish mash of furniture, a television in one corner and a book case in another. It wasn't a mess but it wasn't perfectly tidy either and she was relieved; the last thing she needed was some kind of fruitcake with a complex.

There were a few pictures in frames on a book case in the corner and she moved closer, lifting one to look more closely. There was a boy with shaggy, mousey hair and a few missing teeth standing beside a much younger Jason in a military uniform. Christopher she mused, placing the picture back. Beside it there was another one, again with Jason and the boy standing with a man and a woman she presumed must be their parents. She didn't know the details but she could piece together enough to get a picture. They had died somehow and left Jason to raise Chris on his own at twenty something years of age. Not an easy job for anyone but he seemed to have done well enough judging by the state of the house. This business had to be hurting him more than he let on. Hearing loud footsteps on the stairs, Helen placed the picture back and stepped into the centre of the room.

Jason entered and stopped in front of her. He had changed but was wearing more or less the same outfit as he had been before, blue jeans and a white t-shirt with heavy leather boots. It was a good look, Helen thought staring at his biceps under the tight white fabric over his arms. Jason coughed and picked up his brown leather jacket from the back of a chair. He paused for a minute and Helen dropped her gaze to it. Jason worked his jaw, filled with an odd feeling as he pulled it over his shoulders. Shrugging it down his arms and pulling it closed he raised his head to at Helen. He couldn't help but think that they were a little too his and hers in the wardrobe department for his liking.

Helen coughed and broke his reverie. “Jay?” she asked in a neutral tone and he decided he rather liked the sound of her voice, when she wasn't snapping at him. “Shall we go?”

“This way,” he answered, picking up the bag and leading her through the house to the back door. They stepped into the yard and Helen looked up at the blue sky noticing the way the light gleamed an ethereal orange colour against a bank of black clouds in the distance.

“Where are we going?” she asked the back of his head as she followed him across the lawn and through a gap in an overgrown hedge.

“To get a car,” he replied, stopping to yank open a wooden gate.

Helen stepped through onto an uneven dirt track that stretched down a slope behind the houses. In front of them stood several cars in various states of repair, engine parts propped up against the fence beside the gate. Jason walked down a way and Helen followed, rubbing her thumbs against the inside of her middle fingers as she eyed the cars appreciatively. She stopped beside a rusted red convertible and gazed longingly at the the grinning chrome face of the bumper and headlights. Jason carried on for a few steps before he realised she wasn't following.

“Not that one,” he said loudly but she didn't respond just stepped closer to the car to peer through the window. Jason huffed and turned back up the track towards her.

“Is this yours?” Helen asked as he approached, shading her eyes with her hand as she stooped to look inside.

“Yeah,” he answered, his eyes darting to her thighs as she bent forward.

“It's a Lincoln. Cosmopolitan right?” Helen gushed. “Where ever did you find it?”

“I know a guy, he got it for me at an auction upstate,” Jason told her stepping closer. “You like cars?”

“I like this car,” Helen said with a sigh, touching her hand to the roof in a gentle caress and falling silent as she recalled the last occasion she had been one, long, long ago.

“Well, we can't take it. I'm not letting you trash it with whatever hell you plan to raise,” he said and Helen turned to give him a sour look. “Besides, it's slow and noisy and there isn't enough gas left on the planet to fill the tank.” Helen's shoulders sagged a little but she nodded in understanding. “Come on.”

She gave once last look at the Lincoln before following him further down the track. Jason stopped by a much smaller, sleeker looking car painted in a dark shade of green. Helen wrinkled her nose slightly as she came to a stop in front of the hood.

“What? You don't like this one?” he asked, sticking the key in the door.

“I'm sure it's fine but it looks like it's seen better days,” she said walking around to the passenger side.

“This is a Mustang Sixty Seven. It can move believe me. I fixed the engine myself,” he told her proudly as he opened the door and leant on it.

“I'm sure it's......fine,” she answered unconvinced, looking at him across the roof.

“It is,” Jason said defensively. “It all works fine. I just haven't got around to fixing up the outside yet.”

Helen pursed her lips and gave a short nod, casting her eyes over the scratched paint. “You might want to change the color.” He tipped his head to the side and made a face at her. “Just a thought,” she raised her hands and he shook his head as he climbed in.

Helen, to her credit, said nothing as the engine sputtered pathetically to life but couldn't help wincing slightly when the gears shifted noisily together as Jason pulled the stick back and forth. He gave her a sideways glare and she opened her eyes wide in an effort to seem as unconcerned as possible, staring out at the muddy driveway before them. The car began to struggle up the slope and Helen grimaced as the clutch grunted under Jason's foot, the stick flinging back with a judder. They lurched forward slightly, the engine growled and wheezed under the hood as the car jerked violently again and stalled.

“Don't!” Jason said in a low voice and Helen closed her mouth. Her head shook ever so slightly and her hand gripped tightly onto the inside of the door as they began to move again.

 

The car seemed a little happier once they were on the flat asphalt, the engine quietening to a low hum and Helen relaxed a bit. Jason took them onto the beltway, skirting the evening traffic in the centre of town. A little while later they sat parked on a quiet street looking through the windscreen at a shabby building. A large sigh was nailed across wide steel doors that read 'O'Shea Autobody'.

“So this is it then?” Helen asked, tapping her nails across the dash. Jason nodded and shifted in his seat.

“Yup. That asshole,” he muttered. “I bought some cars from him one time. Had cops all over me sayin' I was trading in stolen goods. He threatened me, threatened Chris if I snitched.”

“And did you? Snitch?” Helen asked, dipping her chin as she looked at his face. Jay's nostrils flared as he breathed heavily.

“I wish I had. Son of bitch would be in jail by now.” Helen nodded and turned away, looking back towards the shop as a few men exited the building and walked away down the street.

“Right,” she huffed. “Well I guess we need to take a look around.” She paused for a moment before she spoke again. “Drive.”

Jason raised his brows at her but started the engine, taking them down the street a way. As they turned a corner, Helen gripped his elbow.

“Stop here.” He complied and turned to her.

“What are you thinking?”

“Get out. I'm taking the car,” she answered blithely.

“You what?” he shook his head in disbelief.

“I'm going to take the car in there and get a quote.” Jason shook his head even more vehemently.

“No way, lady. He knows me, we go in there...”

“I didn't say we,” Helen responded pointedly. “I said I was going.” She reached down and hoisted the bag onto her lap, unzipping it and digging out the Sig from the bottom. Jason watched her open mouthed.

“You are certifiably crazy,” he told her as she stuffed the gun into the waistband of her jeans and zipped the bag shut. Helen paid him no heed just hefted the bag onto his knee.

“You take this, it won't do for me to go in there with this lot,” she said in a calm voice.

“Puh!” he sputtered. “And what am I supposed to do? Just hang around on the corner with a bag of illegal firearms and wait for you?”

“They're not illegal,” she told him with a huff of irritation. “Well, not all of them at least.” He raised a sceptical brow and Helen hitched a shoulder, gazing at him intently. Jason licked his lips and twisted neck around with a sigh.

“Alright, alright,” he said, opening the door and stepping out of the car, taking the bag with him. Helen slid across, bending her long legs up against her body and shifting into the driver's seat. The engine squealed unhappily and the gears grunted loudly as she revved the engine and pulled away at speed, leaving him standing on the pavement in a daze. A cool breeze gusted up the street and Jason raised his head to the swirling clouds that had begun to darken the sky before mooching away along the pavement.


	4. Chapter 4

Helen took the car around the block and back down the street, turning the wheel heavily to pull through a narrow archway and onto the tarmac yard in front of O'Shea Autobody. A man in a blue boiler suit was stood just inside the open doors, wiping his hands on a grimy rag and he turned his head to look as she stepped out of the car and sauntered towards him. Helen couldn't help but notice the way his eye's flicked up and down her body and she straightened her spine and stuck her chest out a little before plastering on her most charming smile. The man worked his tongue across his teeth with a smacking sound and pouted his lips at her in an effort to seem nonchalant.

"Can I help you?" he asked and Helen twisted her neck to one side.

"Oh I hope so," she said in a particularly airy voice. "I've bought this car but I just can't abide the color."

He narrowed his eyes at her and smiled, nodding his head lazily. "Hmmmm," he replied wandering closer. "Mustang. Sixty Eight."

"Sixty Seven,"she corrected and he jerked his chin up at her. She smiled sheepishly. "Or so I've been told." The man smacked his lips and looked her up and down in distaste.

"Hmmm. So ah...whaddya want? Red?" Helen's cheeks began to ache slightly but she continued to beam at him.

"Or blue?" she asked ditzily. "Anything but green really." He chuffed at her light-heartedly.

"Yeah, green's not a good color in a car, huh?" She nodded enthusiastically and showed her teeth.

"So I've heard."

"From the sound of it, the engine could use some work too," he continued sliding his fingers under the hood and it squealed as he yanked it up.

"Oh, could you look at that for me, you think?" Helen said, her eyes flicking into the recesses of the shed behind them. Inside she could see a couple of cars, some embellished with gaudy flames and wings, others with half done paint jobs. Around the edges of the building stood various canisters and cans of what she presumed were paint or car polish.

"Na, we just do autobody," the man said disinterestedly, leaning further under the raised hood and peering at the engine.

"Oh," Helen cooed softly, squinting as she tried to see through a half drawn blind across a perspex window at the back of the shed. "Perhaps you could recommend somebody."

The man nodded and pulled his head up, turning to face her. She snapped her neck around and plastered the smile back onto her face as she met his eyes. "Could do. We got another shop up on Cannon Street."

"Cannon Street," she parroted and the man looked at her intently for a second before he smiled back broadly. Helen suppressed the odd feeling that sprang up as he grinned.

"Yeah, ah, I'll just grab some sample cards. You can take a look at the colors and we can see about a price," he said gesturing with his hand into the shed. Helen smiled and nodded and took a step forward, that feeling of disquiet in her stomach growing stronger. He continued to smile, raising his eyebrows slightly. She took another step into the shady interior and he followed a step or two behind, watching as she looked around the quiet space and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up. She caught a flutter of movement in the corner of her eye and turned on her heel abruptly, adrenaline surging through her body. She raised her arm to deflect the blow but he was too fast and the palm of his hand crashed into the side of her face with a loud slap.

Helen gasped, her face suddenly aflame as she listed heavily to the side. Her fighting instincts kicked in and she spread her arms to balance herself as she staggered. The man grabbed at the lapels of her coat and yanked her upright so she raised her arms to claw at his face, digging her fingers into his scalp and tugging viciously on his hair. He grunted and screwed his face up in pain, raising one hand and slapping her again hard enough to make her head spin. She teetered backwards and he shuffled along with her, still gripping her coat. She clawed at his eyes as he pulled her hair back, his face contorted in a sneer.

"Ah! Fucking bitch!" he cried and heaved her to one side, slamming her against a stone pillar. Her head cracked hard against the concrete and her vision blurred a little. She gasped and began to flail her arms and kick her legs, aiming her knee in the vicinity of his crotch but before she could get a good blow in he had his hand inside her coat and was jabbing her gun in her face. "You little whore, you think I'm stupid?" He snarled wrapping his hand tight around her throat and slamming her head back again.

Helen gasped for breath, pain lancing through her skull. She squirmed beneath his grip as he spoke, little flecks of spit hitting her in the face. "You think I don't know who that car belongs to huh? HUH?" Helen wheezed, her eyes wide, her mouth contorted as she tried to scream but she couldn't get any air into her lungs. "You listen to me to you stuck up limey cunt, you tell your boyfriend that his shit-head brother owes me money!" Helen felt his hot breath on her face and began to feel light-headed, his face began to blur and her eyes rolled in her head. She felt him shift his arm and closed her eyes tight in anticipation of another blow and flinched as she heard the heavy crack of wood against bone.

She heaved in a huge breath and slid down the pillar, her eyes flying open to see the man face down on the ground, her gun tumbling from his hand skittering underneath a car. Jason stood to one side, the shotgun clasped in both hands. The man shook his head and began to push himself up when Jason's boot impacted loudly with his ribs and he sputtered, falling heavily onto his side. Jason snarled and stepped over him, reaching down and slipping the shotgun under his chin. The man wheezed and his eyes bulged as Jason pulled against the gun, the barrel pressing hard against his throat.

"How do you like that huh, you bastard? You like to hit a woman do ya? You sick fuck!" Jason bawled in a rage. Helen hunched forward onto her knees, propping herself up on one hand and reaching up to her throat with the other as she heaved in great lungfuls of air. She glanced up to see Jason dragging him backwards by the neck, flipping him over and stamping on his shoulder. The man's chin crunched loudly into the floor and she grimaced.

"Jay!" she choked, stretching her hand out to him. "Jay, stop!" She struggled to her feet, swaying as she stood upright. Jason's face was twisted with hate and she staggered towards him as he clenched the gun hard and stuffed the barrel in the man's face. "Stop!" Helen screamed and Jason froze, heaving in great breaths, his teeth clenched and his hands shaking with rage.

Helen swayed on her feet and stumbled forward, leaning heavily on his shoulder. She peered down at the man on the floor, his face contorted in pain as he rocked from side to side yowling in agony. Surely this wasn't the fearsome Danny O'Shea? Americans and their hyperbole, she thought despairingly as she raised her hand to her jaw and cupped it tenderly.

"Where's my brother, you sack of shit!" Jason growled, jabbing O'Shea in the shoulder with the end of the gun. O'Shea let out a yelp.

"Jesus Christ, you psychopath! My face! My fucking face!" he sputtered, bloody spraying out of his mouth and across his chin. Helen swayed a little as Jason reached into his coat and pulled out a grenade. Helen's eyes grew wise as he stooped down and held it close to O'Shea's face.

"You better talk or I'll blow this dump to hell and you along with it!" he threatened.

"Okay, okay, Jesus," O'Shea whimpered, his eyes wide with terror. Helen began to rethink her assessment of Jason's mental health but pushed it aside, adrenalin surging through her brain and mixing with a hefty dose of hate for the pitiful creature in front of her. Bile rose in her throat as she regarded his snivelling form and she turned away, leaning against the pillar and hunching forward slightly to take a few breaths as O'Shea began to babble incoherently about money and a job.

She braced herself against the pillar once more and stepped forward, a little more steady on her feet and walked back to stand beside Jason.

"This job..." she began, flexing her jaw from side to side as she spoke. "What was it?" O'Shea's eyes darted to her face and back to Jason.

"Answer her!" Jay barked, shaking O'Shea roughly.

"A pick up! Some freaky lizard eggs, I dunno," he rasped, choking a little. "I sell 'em to a guy I know, into all kinds of fucked up shit. Deals to freaks and weirdos."

Helen ground her teeth together in anger and disgust and winced at the pain that pulsed through her jaw. "Who?" she spat. O'Shea swallowed loudly and sniffed.

"Calls himself Worrall. Real weird looking guy with tattoos." Helen jerked her chin up and glanced at Jason. He met her gaze for a moment and dropped his eyes back to O'Shea.

"How was my brother involved?" he asked in a low voice. O'Shea licked his lips.

"He owed me. Lost big at cards and couldn't pay." Jason's eyes fell closed and Helen could see the disappointment wash over him.

"You're a liar!" He shook O'Shea roughly.

"So you figured you'd get him to do a few jobs for you, work off the debt," Helen said gravely.

"That's right but I swear, we're done now. We can just forget the whole thing, just don't kill me!" O'Shea whined pathetically.

"Where can we find this Worrall?" Helen asked and O'Shea shrugged, wincing in pain.

"He hangs around that freak bar across town, I dunno."

"Jason," Helen began but he remained frozen. "Jay, let's go..." she said, raising her palm slowly and bringing it rest against his bicep.

Jason screwed his face up again and slowly turned his head from side to side. "I oughta kill you. I want to kill you," he sneered through clenched teeth.

"Jay, please," she continued and he raised his head to look at her. His face softened a little as he ran his eyes across the angry mark on her face and he exhaled slowly.

"Alright," he said quietly and Helen's shoulders sagged in relief. "Can you get your gun?" he asked, gesturing towards the car beside them. Helen nodded and moved stiffly over, crouching down, her face contorting in a grimace as she slipped her fingers under the car and wrapped them around the cold steel. Standing upright she watched as Jason pulled O'Shea off the ground a little way and growled.

"If I ever see your ugly face again, I will kill you, you understand?" O'Shea gulped and nodded and Jason shoved him hard so that his head smacked sickeningly against the ground. Jason backed away from him and stepped towards Helen, wrapping his arm around her waist and hustling her towards the door. She glanced over her shoulder at O'Shea, still frozen on the ground, his hands balled into fists and pressed against his eyes as he snivelled.

Jason opened the passenger door of the car and Helen slipped inside. He closed it behind her and jogged over to retrieve the bag from where he had dumped by the gate. Helen stared through the windshield as a clap of thunder rumbled in the distance. She watched the rain began to spit on the glass and rubbed the back of her head lightly, wincing at the sting. O'Shea rolled onto his stomach and was watching them, his face twisted in fear and when Jason turned back he dropped his head onto his arms.

Jason slid in beside her and twisted the key in the ignition, the car jarring to life with it's usual squeal. He reversed, turning the wheel hard and shifting gears again. The tires screeched against the tarmac as they turned through the gate and moved away down the street. Jason drove a few hundred yards and turned around the corner before killing the engine abruptly. He turned to her and clasped her arm gently.

"Jesus Christ, are you alright?" he asked anxiously, cupping her face in his palm and looking her over.

"I'm okay," Helen began but he didn't seem to hear as he gently turned her face from side to side and ran his fingers across the back of her head.

"That fucking asshole, I should have killed him," he complained, gripping her chin tenderly between his thumb and forefinger. "I shouldn't have let you go in there. What a stupid fucking idea that was..." he rambled.

"Jay," she protested quietly, reaching up grasp his fingers but he didn't seem to hear. "Really, it's not that bad. I've had worse, believe me."

"We need to get you to a hospital," he said, turning back and starting the ignition again.

"No, please. I'm okay, Jason." she assured him. "Just take me back to my hotel."

"No way, I saw the way he smacked you. You need a doctor."

"I am a doctor!" she cried exasperated.

"Ya and everybody knows you make the worst patients so just sit back and let me drive ok?" he told her pointedly. She tipped her head to the side and pulled a face at him.

"Jason."

He studiously ignored her, fixing his eyes on the road ahead. His fingers gripped the wheel tightly and Helen was sure she could see his pulse throbbing on the side of his head. "Jay," she repeated softly. When he still didn't respond she turned back in her seat, leaning against the head rest and looking out the rain spotted window as the buildings rolled by. After a minute or two she spoke again.

"If you take me to the hospital they'll just think you're the reason I'm there," she told him matter of factly. He turned and regarded her through narrowed eyes.

"You wouldn't," he said, disbelieving. Helen sighed.

"No, I wouldn't but it wouldn't stop them from thinking it," she explained.

"Well I'll just tell them about O'Shea. Let the cops deal with him."

"And what do you think he'll say? Then they'll be knocking on your door and dragging you off to jail," she countered. He clenched his jaw and twisted his neck. "Jay, please," she said in a sad, quiet voice. "Just take me back to the hotel. I have my medical kit, we'll be fine. Please."

Jason exhaled slowly and let his eyes fall closed as they stopped at an intersection, the brakes squeaking loudly. The engine rattled under the hood as Helen ran a fingertip along the seam of the leather on the seat beside her and dropped her eyes to watch the stick tremor under his hand.

"Alright," he said softly, pulling away as the light turned green.


	5. Chapter 5

They rode in silence through town back to her hotel. Lulled by the sound of the rain on the roof of the car, Helen couldn't help closing her eyes.

“Hey, no sleeping missy,” he said in a cheerful tone that belied his anxiety. Helen smiled at him meekly.

“You've been watching too many hospital dramas, I'm alright.” He gave her a cynical look and she quirked a brow at him, coughing and sitting upright. “Fine, I'm awake see?” she told him tiredly.

Outside the hotel Jason eyed the valet suspiciously and Helen raised an elegant brow at him over the roof of the car. He swallowed and handed the keys over, walking around to heave the bag over his shoulder and wrap his arm around her waist in a firm grip. Helen didn't protest as he guided her inside the door, merely pulled her shades out of her pocket and slipped them onto her face to obscure the angry red mark on her cheek. Jason looked down his nose at her as they approached the desk.

“Sure that doesn't make us just look even more shady,” he told her with a slight scowl but she shushed him and smiled painfully at the receptionist as they picked up the key.

It occurred to Helen that she really didn't need to be leaning on him as they rode the elevator but she wasn't exactly uncomfortable tucked under his arm either so she said nothing. Inside her suite, she dropped her jacket on the back of the couch and Jason looked about, shifting on his feet uncomfortably for a second before setting the bag down on the floor inside the door and heading to the fridge. Helen walked to the desk and set her phone down on it, pulled her Sig from her waistband and flicked the net curtain to one side to look at the angry sky. It was a swirl of grey and purple as the late summer sun set behind the storm clouds. Helen leant across to open the window and the hush of rain filled the room.

Jason filled a wine cooler with as much as he could find and pushed up on his knees. “You have a towel or something,” he asked, looking her in the eye. Helen nodded mutely and went into the bathroom, coming back with a towel and a pack of painkillers.

Jason sat down on the couch across from her and began to fill the centre of the towel with the ice, setting the bucket on the table before them before turning back to her. Helen crunched on paracetamol as he raised the towel to the side of her face. “Here,” he said softly. “This should help some.” Helen swallowed the chalky mush in her mouth, smacking her lips and twisted her hair around in her hand to hold it up away from the side of her face.

“Thank you,” she said with a quiet smile, looking at him.

“You're welcome,” he replied, his face very close. “How's the bump?”

She pressed a finger against the crown of her head and squinted a little. “It's ok, there's no blood. I've had worse believe me.” He chuffed.

“So much for your bluster. Thought you could take care of yourself.” Helen narrowed her eyes at him.

“I can,” she told him in a sour tone, bristling at the insinuation.

“Yeah, well he sure got the drop on you,” Jason told her, eyebrows raised.

“I managed to take you down,” she retorted but the venom she intended melted away as his fingers traced a gentle path across her jaw.

“Yes you did,” he answered softly and she found herself thinking that he was really rather handsome after all. He stared into her eyes and the room was silent. A clap of thunder rolled in the distance and her gaze flicked to his mouth. “Ahem,” he coughed. “So now what?”

“Um,” she began. “I guess we try to find this Worrall.”

“Huh, I'm sure he's long gone by now,” he replied, shifting the towel against her cheek.

“We still haven't found Chris, we have to try.” He nodded.

“I guess we could go back to the bar,” he suggested. Helen looked sceptical.   
.  
“You really think he'd go back there?”

“Well we've got nothing else to go on, maybe Joe knows something.”

“Hmm, I think Joe might be less reliable than you think.” Jason looked puzzled, “O'Shea knew we were coming. Someone must have told him.”

Jason shook his head. “That makes no sense. If Joe was in with O'Shea why would he tell us about Tattoos in the first place.” Helen pursed her lips.

“Oh, I don't know,” she said shaking her head. “Even if we do catch up with this Worrall, who's to say he'd have any idea where to find your brother anyway.”

Helen pressed her lips together and his eyes flicked down to her lips as she chewed on them thoughtfully. “Hmm,Worrall” she chuffed, staring over his shoulder. “It's Arabic for lizard,” she told him.

“That freaky guy from before?” he said, drawing his chin back slightly. “You're saying he's a...lizard man?” She smiled at his astonished look and let out a chuckle. He turned and looked through the window.

“I know it must seem strange to you, all this. I....” she trailed off. Jason turned back to look at her, his expression unreadable.

“This is what you meant then. When you said before about....abnormals, or whatever you called them.”

“That's right.” He pursed his lips and nodded thoughtfully before he continued.

“What about Chris? He ain't a lizard man,” he said in a gentle tone.

“No,” she said, blinking slowly. “He's human. He's just....sensitive.”

“Hmm he is,” Jason agreed, pulling the towel from her cheek and laying it across his lap to rearrange the cubes of ice. “That's why I know that scumbag O'Shea was lying. Chrissy never lost at cards.” She dropped her hand from where it held her hair up behind her head. Jason turned back to her with the towel but she gripped his wrist lightly.

“It's alright now, thanks.” Jason nodded and dumped the towel into the wine cooler on the table. Helen thought he seemed a little disappointed as he leaned back against the sofa, his long legs bumping the edge of the table. She turned and did the same, squinting a little as the back of her head pressed against the cushions.

“So...” he began, lacing his fingers together and waggling his thumbs. She didn't reply for a minute, the only sound the rain outside the window and she felt her eyes slipping shut of their own accord. “I guess we should move. If you're up to it, that is.”

Her eyes flew open. “Of course,” she answered tersely and stood up abruptly. “I'm just going to change into something a little more appropriate for the evening.” He tilted his head around on the back of the sofa and watched her back as she walked into the bedroom.

Two minutes later she returned and tugged her coat out from under the back of his head. Jason sat up and saw that she had changed into a long sleeve black top that ruffled rather appealingly across her chest. Helen pulled her coat on and flicked her hair out from under the collar. “Ready?” she asked with a quirk of her brow and he couldn't help the smile spread across his face.

 

She gave him her other handgun to use. The bag got in the way and it wouldn't be seemly to walk the streets carrying a shotgun. Jason chuckled at her odd expression and she shook her head in confusion.

“It's just cute, that's all,” he explained as they rode the elevator. “The way you talk.” Helen Magnus didn't blush - she was merely a little red from having been slapped in the face.

 

The Beer Engine was crowded that evening in spite of the rain and Helen was glad. It wasn't such a huge place that he would be impossible to spot Worrall if he did show up and it would be easier to hide among the extra bodies. Jason was less thrilled because it meant Helen kept pressing up against him and while that in itself was not unpleasant, it was making it difficult to stay focused.

Loud, grinding rock music pumped from the speakers as they approached the bar and Jason stood behind her as some other patrons squeezed past behind him. Helen's hair pressed against his mouth so that he could smell her shampoo and when she leant forward to shout in the ear of the bartender her ass pressed against his groin. He closed his eyes and let out a small puff of breath as he reached up to detach a few strands of her hair that caught in the fuzz of his goatee. He considered that it wouldn't normally be a bad way to spend an evening but he suppressed the thought and turned his head to scan the room. There was no sign of lizard guy or Joe in the mass of faces.

The bartender returned with two glasses of coke and Helen turned to him with a straw between her lips as she drank. He reached out and pinned the other drink to the bar to stop it spilling as her elbow brushed the glass. Jason leaned down towards her as she crooked her neck to shout at him, her warm breath tickling his ear.

“..says...is working...bar tonight.”

“Huh?” he shouted back, turning his face so that his nose brushed her temple. Helen repeated herself but he couldn't make it out a second time either. She turned to look at him, her face very close.

“Downstairs,” she mouthed and he nodded, unable to stop his gaze from lingering on her lips as she sucked on the straw again. Helen stood close in the circle of his arms holding her glass in one hand and clasping the straw between her fingers with the other. She turned from side to side, swaying slightly and looking over the room. Swallowing, he reached for his glass and took a long drink. His nose wrinkled slightly when he tasted it. Of course she would drink diet wouldn't she?

Helen looped her fingers around his wrist so that they could more easily stay together as they squeezed through the crowd. Someone jerked against her elbow as they passed causing her hand to slip down his wrist and Jason clutched her fingers between his own so as not to lose her. They moved across the floor to the corridor that lead out the back and to the bathrooms. An unvarnished wood door covered the entrance to the stairs down to the basement bar. Jason pulled her through and the music was muffled as the door swung shut behind them. He took a step down when she tugged against on his arm.

“Maybe one of us should stay up here, in case Worrall comes in?” she said, still holding his hand.

“But Joe is downstairs. He's still our best bet, don't you think?” Jason answered looking her straight in the eye as he stood on the staircase slightly below her. She twitched her nose adorably as she considered it.

“Well, what if he does have something to do with it? Won't he just run off as soon as he sees us?”

Jason hitched a shoulder. “Then surely it's better we're both there. If he runs, I won't have time to come back up here to get you.”

“You'll just have to call me.” Helen pulled her phone from her pocket. “What's your number?” Jason exhaled through his nose and dug in his pants when she spoke again. “Oh, there's no signal in here anyway.”

“You're over-thinking things,” he said, irritated and turned to take another step down, pulling her with him.

“Hardly,” she groused, trotting behind.

At the bottom of the stairs there was another unvarnished door and more muffled music. To the right there was a short corridor lined with peeling wallpaper and a grubby stone floor with another door at the end of it. They moved down it a way to dodge the door as it swung open, a blast of music filling the narrow space. Jason put his hand out to catch it and had taken a step forward when the door at the other end of the corridor swung open, smacking loudly into the wall behind. Helen turned at the sound of clanking bottles and saw a man backing out. He turned and met her eyes. It was Joe, a crate of beer in his arms and he froze for a second before he started back up into the room. Helen jerked on Jason's hand as the door swung shut again.

She dashed forward and hooked her finger in the hole where the handle should have been, tugging it open. Joe dropped the case of beer and turned tail, dashing towards the back of the room and grabbing onto a painted metal bannister.

“Hey!” she yelled and Jason barged past at a sprint after him. Joe managed to climb a couple of steps before Jason caught up with him and grabbed his ankle. Joe slammed against the metal steps with a loud clang that made Helen's ears hurt.

“No, please,” he begged as Jay pulled him downwards and flipped him over. He raised his arms defensively over his face. “Don't hurt me.” Jason grabbed at Joe's forearms and yanked them away from his face.

“Hey calm down,” he tried to explain but Joe flailed in terror, trying to get free.

“Why did you run?” Helen asked stepping out from behind a stack of beer crates. Joe looked at her with wild eyes.

“I heard what you did to Danny O'Shea,” he squealed and Helen looked over at Jason. He quirked his lips and dipped his head to one side. Joe tried to wriggled beneath him trying to break free.

“Jesus, Joe I'm not gonna hurt you,” he said releasing Joe's arms. Joe coiled them back against his body and swallowed hard.

“That man, Worrall, where is he?” Helen asked with a jerk of her chin.

“Um, I don't...I don't know.” Jason leaned a little closer and Joe flinched. “Ah...but..but...he'll be around, I'm sure. He can't pass up business on night like this.”

“Business?” Helen queried and Joe nodded.

“What, drugs?” Jason asked.

“No, I don't know. Weird shit. You know we get a lot of freaks come in here.” Joe sucked on his lower lip and sniffed. Helen touched her tongue to the corner of her mouth.

“He deals in here and you let him?” Helen asked, her face screwing up in disgust. Joe pursed his lips and shook his head.

“No, he drinks in here, meets people here but it all goes down out the back.” He jerked his head up towards a set of black metal doors in the ceiling.

Jason ran his tongue across his teeth and glanced at Helen for a moment before dropping his gaze back to Joe. “You got his number?”


	6. Chapter 6

Two hours later, Helen sat looking out of the windshield at the dark water of the docks. A bell was clanging erratically in the distance and the soothing slap of the water against the harbor defences was marred only by the drizzle of rain on the roof of the car. They were parked between a stack of crates printed with Chinese characters in red ink to one side and a mottled concrete wall on the other. There were a few bodies about even at this late hour, men in waterproof pants hauling white, plastic containers of fish onto the dock or hosing down the sides of the boats. She turned her head as the door opened and Jason climbed into the driver's seat.

“Still no sign?” she asked. He shook his head and pulled a face.

“Nah, nothin'” he replied shifting around a little and pulling his sleeve up to glance at his watch. Helen turned back to the windshield and shook her head.

“You're sure this is the right place?” she asked as she peered through the rain streaked glass. Jason sighed.

“This is the fish market,” he replied tapping his fingers on the dash. Helen glanced sideways and eyed a short queue of people in front a white van where a man was stooped behind a tiny window, serving dim sum in polystyrene containers.

“I wonder if they've got tea,” she muttered idly. Jason pursed his lips and tilted his head to one side.

“It smelled really good,” he said with a small sigh. She looked at him for a moment and raised her eyebrows. He touched his tongue to his lower lip and she leaned back in her seat, raising her hips to dig around in the pocket of her pants. His eyes dropped to admire the curve of her ass until she slumped back down and shoved a handful of bills towards him.

“Go on,” she told him. “But if they've only got coffee, don't bother.” He took the notes and opened the door. She watched his back as he trotted over and joined the line. Her stomach growled and she smacked her lips in anticipation. A man walked in front of the car, hunching forward as he stuffed a glutinous, white mass into his mouth with chopsticks and her eyes followed him hungrily. Minutes passed and when she looked back towards the truck Jason was just reaching up to take a paper bag from the vendor. He turned towards the car, two cups stacked one of top of the other in one hand and the food clutched in the other. He had only taken a few steps when he raised his head and Helen saw him freeze for a second before he darted suddenly to the side behind a stack of empty blue crates. She jerked her head to see Tattoos standing, half hidden by a pillar, engaged in conversation with another man and slid down as low in her seat as her long legs would allow.

Helen stayed hunched low behind the dash for a few minutes and watched as they conducted their business, noting the way Worrall's eyes darted about. She glanced towards Jason but couldn't see anything, her view obscured by the steering wheel. There was no way either of them would be able to sneak up on him from their positions. Her brain ran through a myriad of possibilities and she concluded the best option would be to hang back and follow him when he got tired of waiting. Before she had the chance to mull the possibilities over any further, a loud beeping sound filled her ears and a truck began to reverse across the concrete in front of the car. She pushed up in her seat and gripped the dash for a moment, before pulling on the handle and stepping out into the rain. She pulled her Sig from her pants and tugged her sleeve down as far as she could over her hand to obscure it as she sloped forward. Sideways she slid alongside the reversing truck and crossed in front of the cab, the bright headlights blinding her. She raised a hand and squinted, jogging forward until she had a clear view of Worrall and his associate. She leaned backward, trying to stay out of sight but not before Worrall raised his head and looked directly at her.

His blinked in his odd, reptilian way, the black slits of his pupils expanding to dark ellipses that seemed to fill his eyes. He shoved his associate roughly on the chest, knocking him down in an effort to block her path and fled in the opposite direction. Helen began to sprint forward when Jason tore across the dock after him. She slowed and backed up a few steps before turning around and running back to the car as fast as she could. She yanked open the door and flopped heavily behind the wheel, reaching her fingers down to twist the key in the ignition. The engine sputtered and the car lurched forward a foot or so before coming to a stop with an unnerving rattle.

“No, no...” she cried, jerking the stick and turning the key once more. “Stupid bloody thing!” The starter motor wheezed, mocking her as she clenched her jaw in frustration until finally after the third attempt it submitted and the engine roared to life.

Jason meanwhile was tearing along the uneven surface of the access road, rain hitting him directly in the face. His feet pounded against the ground with a wet slap as his arms swung furiously up and down. Worrall, only a few yards ahead of him, careened into a pedestrian and clutched tightly at the man's coat, swinging him around and flinging him to the ground so that Jason had to leap over his crumpled form. He landed heavily in a puddle, his arms flailing out as he tried to keep his balance, water soaking his pants. Worrall jerked sideways suddenly down a gap between two old trawlers that were out of the water for repairs, spinning around to tip up an old steel barrel in an effort to slow down his pursuer.

He exited the boats onto a narrow strip of asphalt bordered by wide, open sheds. He weaved between the steel struts that rose up from the ground and skidded to a stop behind a stack of wooden pallets. Shoving hard, they collapsed across the floor with a tremendous crash. Jason careened into them hard, falling forward with a loud “Oof!” Worrall staggered backwards, hopping from foot to foot before turning once more and sprinting out the other side of the shed onto a wide open road.

Jason heard the squeal of tires against wet stone as he pushed himself up on his arms. He reached forward to clamber over the fallen pallets only to fall on his face again and slide backwards as they shifted under his feet. He raised his head to see a streak of green through the rain as the Helen tore down the road in the car.

Worrall turned his head to glance over his shoulder, jerking it back around sharply as the beam of the Mustang's headlights shone in his eyes. Dazzled he stumbled forward and smacked chin first into the mesh of a chain fence, gripping on blindly to keep from falling on his ass. Helen slammed on the brakes and they squealed ineffectually, the tires skidding on the wet stone. She glanced up to see Worrall climbing lizard like up the fence as the bumper impacted it at the base and the entire section was torn from the supporting struts on either side. Worrall landed against the windshield with a heavy thump and a concrete post listed sideways, shunting the car so that it veered to the side.

Helen clutched at the wheel with a death grip, bracing herself against the seat as the car swerved out of control and smacked into a railing with a loud crunch. Worrall, still clinging desperately to the mesh fence, let out a yowl and slid off the hood to land in a crumpled heap a few feet away.

“Aah!” Helen squealed as she was shoved forward forcefully against the wheel and then slammed back against the chair, the tender spot on the crown of her head smacking against the headrest. She screwed her eyes shut for a second before shaking her head and letting out a few short pants of breath. She gazed ahead through the cracked glass of the windshield to see a small column of steam coming from the crumpled hood. “Bloody hell!” she exclaimed.

Jason came to a skittering halt beside her window and she turned to look at him, hands still gripping the wheel as he let out a wail.

“What the hell? Jesus Christ, my car! My fucking car!” he screeched, his arms bent up at the elbows as he smacked his palms down onto his bald head. He turned to look at her through the door with a deranged look on his face. Helen returned his gaze sheepishly, her eyebrows glued to her hairline. Panting heavily, she pushed her foot down on the clutch and yanked the stick into reverse, the engine wheezing unhappily before the car rolled backwards. The metal railing scraped against the front with a long, scratching sound that made Jason's teeth ache and the bumper stuck to it for a second before finally coming free. It clanged against the ground and Jason screwed his eyes up tight as it dragged painfully across the concrete with a high pitched squeal.

Helen climbed out of the car and tentatively stepped towards him,chewing on her bottom lip. She sucked her lips fully into her mouth and turned to survey the damage, trembling imperceptibly. Steam billowed from the hood with a hiss and Jason walked forward, clasping one of the headlights in his hand as it dangled from it's fixture, a look of sorrow painted across his face.

“Jay,” she choked out between breaths. “I'm sorry.” He turned to her and she thought for a moment he might cry but he merely let go of the lamp and stepped closer.

“Are you okay?” he asked breathily, reaching out to hold her shoulder. She looked into his eyes and nodded, trembling ever so slightly. He reached up with his other hand and turned her to face him, his eyes raking up and down her body. He opened his mouth to speak when a strangled moan drifted up from behind. They turned towards the sound to see Worrall shifting his arms against the section of fence that lay atop him. Jason's face hardened at the sound and he dropped his arms from Helen's shoulders, lifting his leg over the iron rail and approaching the writhing form on the ground.

He stooped and the fence clattered against the ground as he shoved it aside. He crouched down beside Worrall's crumpled body and grimaced.

“Ah, he doesn't look so good,” he said in a wavering voice, turning his head to peer at Helen over his shoulder. She gripped the railing and stepped over stiffly. Wincing as she crouched down, she ran her eyes up and down Worrall's twisted form. Worrall groaned again, his eyes rolling in their sockets before his head turned to the side and a forked tongue lolled out between his lips. Helen bent down on her knees and held her cheek in front of his mouth.

“He's alive.” She looked up at Jason's face to seem his staring intently with a look halfway between curiosity and revulsion. She reached forward and began to rifle through his pockets. “Check his phone,” she said as she handed it across his torso. She found a wad of grubby bills and pulled out a knife from inside his coat. Throwing it to the side she continued, dropping several small plastic packets onto the floor beside his body. Jason leant across and picked one up, turning it over in his fingers.

“What is it?” he asked and Helen sighed.

“I'm not sure but I'm sure it's highly illegal and highly immoral,” she said with disgust.

“Ground up lizard babies?” Jason said half-joking but when she didn't crack a smile, he dropped the package back onto the ground. “If he's a lizard man, why would he trade in lizard eggs anyway?” He asked as she pulled a set of keys out of Worrall's pants. She shrugged slightly as she flicked through them.

“Some varanids are cannibalistic,” she said absently as she squinted at one key in particular. “The flesh of some smaller species are thought to be an aphrodisiac.” Jason raised his brows and quirked his lips as his gaze fell back to the tiny packets on the floor. “What does this look like to you?”

He craned his neck closer. “CCT?” Helen read the tiny letters on the yellow plastic cap.

“City Container Terminal,” Jason said.

“Hmm,” Helen replied sitting back on her feet. “What's are the odds that's where he keeps his stash?”

Jason tipped his head to one side as he looked her in the eye. “You wanna check it out?” She nodded. “What about lizard guy?”

“Well we can't leave him here,” Helen answered flicking her eyes up and down the body on the ground.

“I'm not sure we're going anywhere,” Jason replied looking over his shoulder at the mangled front of the Mustang. Helen turned her head and swallowed.

“Yes, um...sorry about that,” she said in a quiet voice. He shook his head slightly and chuffed out a breath through his nose, his nostrils flaring.

“What happened?”

“I ah, the breaks gave out, I couldn't stop.” She told him contritely but he wouldn't meet her eyes, merely pushed up off the ground and walked back to stand in front of the car. “Is it very bad?”

He grasped the light where it was hanging down and stooped to slot it back into place and then ran his hand across the front to tug at the bumper. The sound of wrenching metal made Helen wince.

“I don't know, I'll have to take a look. We can't go on the road like this, the cops'll pull us over in a heartbeat.” Jason stood and gestured at the cracked windshield. Helen rose and brushed grit off her damp knees. “It's not far from here to the shipping yards, maybe if we stay on the service roads.”

“Perhaps we could just leave it somewhere? Go on foot?” Helen suggested as the sky rumbled over head and the light rain that had been falling all evening turned into a heavy downpour.


	7. Chapter 7

A while later and Worrall was tied up in the trunk, his hands and feet bound by his belt and shoelaces. Helen sat in the passenger seat, idly flicking through his phone. Outside Jason closed the hood and then leant his palms flat across it, pushing from his broad shoulders in an attempt to get the warped metal to stay closed. It flexed loudly under his hands and the car bobbed up and down from the force of his efforts. Surveying his handiwork and satisfied it would stay shut, he jogged around the car and climbed in the driver's side.

"Alright?" Helen asked looking up and down his sodden form. He sniffed and wiped away a drop of rain that was clinging to the end of his nose.

"Fine," he answered, pressing his knuckles with a loud cracking sound. Helen wrinkled her nose distastefully. "Shall we?" he asked, leaning forward and turning the key in the ignition and she raised her brows in assent. The engine made a clicking sounds for several seconds before the starter motor began to wheeze. Jason clenched his jaw and continued to push against the pedals. "Come on," he muttered and the engine roared suddenly to life. It raged at them furiously from under the hood, whining and grunting as Jason jerked the shift into gear.

They made their way along the river, the Mustang complaining noisily the entire way. Helen had the feeling that Jason wanted to yell at her for trashing his precious car but he seethed quietly instead, expressing himself instead by twisting his face up and jerking the stick about angrily. She wasn't sure they were going to make it all the way to the shipping yards, especially not by the convoluted route they were forced to take. More than once she had to jump out of the car and scout ahead in the rain soaked night to find a way through the maze of sheds and cranes that dotted the docks.

Eventually they found themselves on a quiet road riddled with potholes that Jason was sure would take them in the right direction and they drove at a snails' pace in an effort to prevent the bumper from falling off where he had haphazardly tied it onto the underside of the car. When they finally arrived at their destination, Helen bribed the security guard at the gate, stuffing the bundle of notes she had taken from Worrall's pocket into his hand. Jason drove them along the main avenue, tall stacks of shipping containers rising up on either side. He leant forward and tilted his head up.

"So here we are but which one is it?" he asked, craning his neck to peer through the windshield at the wall of metal that towered above them. Helen shook her head and examined the key again.

"Honestly, I've no idea," she answered raising her head and glancing over at him. Jason brought the car to a stop, the engine choking and shaking unhappily under the dented hood. He looked at her for a long minute, gazing into her wide blue eyes. In the half light he could make out where the red of her cheek had faded into a sickly yellow colour and felt a twinge of guilt for being angry with her. She returned his gaze for a minute before her eyes dropped to his lips and then down to the shift before finally she turned her head and looked through the back window. Jason watched her chew her lip for a second before turning his head in the same direction and nodding ever so slightly as a light went on in his head.

The lid swung open with a loud click and standing side by side, they peered down at the crumpled heap in the trunk.

"Is he alive?" Jason asked, pulling the gun from his waist and poking Worrall's prone form with it. Helen bent forward and leaned near his face.

"He's breathing," she said with a shrug before reaching forward to grasp his shoulder and shaking him. After a while he shifted and his eyes opened slowly, swallowing as he looked blearily about before his eyes opened wide and he twitched. He jerked against his restraints and turned his head about with a panicked expression on his face.

"Ah, oh!" he groaned in pain and his eyes darted towards them.

"Welcome back," Helen said in a neutral tone. Worrall eyed the butt of Jason's gun nervously.

"What do you want?" he rasped after heaving in a few breaths, wincing as pain shot through his chest. Helen held the key up and gestured at the wall of ridged steel behind her.

"I want to know which one of these this belongs to," she told him, tilting her head to one side and raising a brow at him. Worrall narrowed his eyes at her.

"Go to hell," he uttered breathily and Jason leant forward and punched him in the face. "Ah!" Worrall yelped, his head falling back against the rough fuzz of the trunk's interior.

"Try again," he leered, a menacing grin spreading across his face. Worrall panted heavily and looked at him through slitted eyes.

"Okay, okay, just don't hit me again," he rasped and Jason clutched his arm in a tight grip, yanking unceremoniously to a sitting position. Worrall yowled in pain and Helen pushed away a pang of pity, clenching her teeth and giving him a hard look.

"Well?" she uttered in a terse voice. Worrall looked about in his strange, reptilian way.

"Further in, the next yard," he told her sourly. Jason shoved him back down and slammed the trunk closed. Worrall squealed in terror, banging about loudly inside and Helen and Jason exchanged a guilty look before climbing back into the car.

In the next yard they repeated the process and after a few threats and a little shoving Worrall directed them down a track that lead off to one side along the waterfront. Helen looked out across the dark water at the lights of the city in the distance as she stepped out of the car, her hair whipping across her face and droplets of rain clinging to her eyelashes. Jason pulled Worrall out of the trunk, tugging the belt off from around his feet and looping it around his neck like a leash, ignoring Helen's raised brow and shoving his prisoner in the back. Worrall staggered and twisted his hands against their bindings, wincing in agony. Jason tugged on the belt and Worrall gasped for breath. "Which. One?" he snarled.

"Red," Worrall breathed, closing eyes and slumping forward. "Ends in seven one four." Jason jabbed his gun into his back and pushed him forward along the track, the headlights on the Mustang illuminating their path. Helen walked ahead with the key in her hand, squinting at the numbers on the containers. A few yards up she came to a stop.

"I think this is it," she said, turning her head towards them and blinking against the rain. She squatted down and began to unfasten the padlocked bolts at the base of the door, her fingers stiff from the damp. She levered the handles on one side of the container and pulled. It swung slowly open, creaking loudly on it's hinges. Her eyes went wide as she peered inside and then stepped through. Jason shuffled closer to get a look, maintaining his grip on his prisoner.

His wrinkled his nose at the stench. There were crates of water and plastic tubs full of meal-worms and locusts in a corner, garbage littering the floor. Against one wall there was a long table, covered with dirty chemistry equipment. Stacked in the corner behind it were steel cages and Jason could see several sets of green eyes glinting in the dim red light from an incubator that sat on top of a fridge beside them. Helen winced as they creatures yowled and squawked, shifting around nervously at their presence. She stepped closer and peered into the incubator, the red light illuminating her face. She saw several rows of eggs lined up under a heat lamp and lifting the lid, picked one up to turn it about in her fingers before gingerly setting it back down. She turned her had and looked Worrall in the eye.

"Quite the cottage industry you've got here," she said bitterly and he clenched his jaw, raising his chin and meeting her gaze defiantly. Jason stood open mouthed taking in the sight before him.

"What the...what is this stuff?"he asked incredulously. Worrall remained silent, twisting his wrists about against the restraints. Helen took a step towards them.

"You're disgusting," she spat but Worrall didn't flinch, merely gazed off at an unknown spot behind her. "What about Christopher?" she asked and Jason snapped his head round to look at her.

Worrall wrinkled his nose and remained silent. Jason tugged on the belt and jabbed his gun in against Worrall's cheek, shoving him sideways against the wall. Worrall let out a yelp, his facing screwing up as he impacted painfully against the cold steel. "Answer the question!" he barked.

Worrall opened his eyes and looked at him sideways through slitted eyes. "I don't know where he is," he ground out bitterly. "I haven't seen him for days. Not since he stiffed me."

"What are you talking about?" Jason sneered and Worrall looked at him with revulsion but said nothing.

"Where is he?" Helen asked, crossing her arms across her chest. Worrall looked over at her for a second and Jason stuffed the barrel of his gun into Worrall's side.

"He's gone man, skipped town," he rasped fearfully.

"Why?" Worrall shook his head a little.

"How should I know? He was O'Shea's bitch, not mine," Jason seethed, his hand tensing and jerking on the belt around Worrall's neck.

"You know what I think?" Jason said in a dark tone, leaning closer. "I think you're full of shit."

Helen worked her jaw back and forth for a moment and turned her head to regard Jason. She could see the rage bubbling under the stoney facade, his chest heaving as he breathed heavily through his nose. She touched her tongue to her lower lip and dropped her gaze, staring through the abraded glass of a beaker on the dusty table. Jason's eyes darted towards her for a second and he shifted his grip on the belt a little.

"Please tell me I can put a bullet in this scaley son of a bitch" he said and she exhaled a little breath as the creatures squeaked and rattled around in the cages behind her. Worrall panted heavily and his eyes grew wide.

"You wouldn't," he rasped. "I know who you are," he told her and Helen jerked her head around to look him in the face as he spoke. "You...you won't kill me!" She clenched her jaw and glared at him as Jason pulled his hand back suddenly and smacked him in the side of the head with his gun.

"But I might," he said leaning close to whisper darkly in Worrall's ear.

Helen huffed and pulled out her phone. "I need to make a call. Stay here," she instructed and stepped behind Jason and out into the rain.

She pushed the heavy metal door back and sheltered in the space between the containers, pulling her collar up against the weather as she dialled home. Helen had just put the phone to her ear and was listening to the familiar ringing tone when there was an almighty crash in the container behind her, the heavy thump of a body and the sound of breaking glass. The metal door swung rapidly open and smacked against the corner of the neighbouring container, the loud sound resounding along the narrow passage where she stood making her ears twinge painfully. Stuffing her phone into her pocket and pulling her gun from the waistband of her pants, she kicked the door hard out of the way.

She looked from side to side to see Worrall sprinting away along the stoney mud track and raised her gun instinctively. Turning her head to peer into the container she saw Jason sprawled across the table top amid a sea of smashed glass, the abnormals in the cages behind thrashing in panic, small clawed toes and scaled muzzles pressing against the metal bars. Jason pushed himself up on his arms and raised his hand, still clutching his gun, to rub his temple.

"Go! Go!" he wheezed, winded from the blow and Helen immediately set off down the darkened track in pursuit. Worrall was fast but his escape was hindered by the bindings on his wrists. In the distance she could see his shoulders hitching from side to side as he twisted his arms in an effort to get them free. He ran in staggering, mal-co-ordinated steps, the loose end of the belt around his neck slapping loudly against the cheap vinyl of his coat.

Helen sprinted after him, kicking up little spurts of gravel as her boots impacted the ground. She raised her arm in front of her and fired off a couple of rounds that flew over Worrall's head. She followed him along the water's edge as the track curved to follow a contour on the riverbank. Wide concrete blocks sloped down between the path and the waterline, a wide muddy patch littered with large moss covered stones and rusted shopping carts exposed by the receding tide. Worrall bounded down the slope in huge leaps as inertia and gravity dragged him towards the water. He began to run across the exposed rocks towards the overgrowth that covered the bank on the other side. Helen fired off another round and he ducked, the bullet narrowly missing his ear. Unable to right his balance with his hands still bound, Worrall floundered across the wet stone, losing his footing on the slippery moss and falling face first to the ground.

He disappeared from Helen's view for a moment as she continued forward, her feet landing in wet pools of gravel and weeds as she tried to avoid the slimey tops of the stones. Ahead of her Worrall managed to get to his feet but she had closed the distance between them considerably and raising her gun again, she squeezed the trigger. The bullet hit him squarely in the shoulder and he let out a cry, his body hunching forward from the force of the impact. He began to weave about chaotically but managed to make up the sloping concrete and into the trees.

Helen looked about frantically as she entered the darkened copse, her breathing loud in her ears and her eyes adjusted to the blackness. She could hear Worrall ahead of her, the branches creaking and swaying loudly as he pushed between them. Thorny branches scratched her cheeks and her hair pulled painfully as it caught on the brambles. Letting out a gasp, she raised her arms in front of her face as she powered forward until she came out onto the cracked surface of a service road. Ahead Worrall was stumbling along under the tall street lamps that lined the road, hunched over with his hands still bound behind his back. He staggered forward and collapsed onto his side onto a low wall of concrete blocks as the road turned sharply. Helen ran towards him, a hard gust of wind stealing her breath and whipping her hair across her eyes. Worrall raised his head and looked at her, his eyes two black orbs in his face and his forked tongue flicking out between his lips before he listed to the side and fell over the wall out of sight.

Her knees bumped into the wall as she came to a stop, her palms flat across the cold stone as she leaned across to peer over the edge. She ran her eyes across the jagged rocks below, the gray angular surfaces bright in the yellow light of the lamps above, a wide band of green sludge hugging the water's edge. Worrall was nowhere in sight.


	8. Chapter 8

Helen stood beside the low wall breathing hard, blinking against the rain and raising her hand to brush her tangled hair out of her face. Turning away and stepping onto the uneven asphalt, she reached her arms behind her and arched her spine, grimacing as her vertebrae cracked. Spreading her hands across her lower back she took a few steps forward when she heard a gruff voice calling her name in the distance.

She raised her head to see Jason emerge from the overgrowth, gun in hand and a harried look on his face. He ran towards her.

“Did you get him?” he gasped between breaths as he stopped in front of her. She closed her eyes and shook her head.

“I hit him,” she said, panting. “In the shoulder. He went over the edge but....he's gone.” Jason stepped up to the wall and peered over, his jaw set in a grim expression as he surveyed the drop.

“You think he survived the fall?” he asked walking back to her.

“I suppose he could have gone into the water,” Helen replied dropping her chin against her chest. Jason looked her up and down, sucking his lower lip between his teeth.

“Come on,” he said, placing his hands on her shoulders and ushering across the road and into the trees. Helen complied, raising her head to look at him and noting the blood smeared across the side of his head. There were dusty brown trails down his sleeve and shards of broken glass across his shoulder where he had been knocked against the table.

“Are you alright?” she asked as he pushed her ahead of him between the brambles, his hand clutching her elbow.

“Yeah, that son of bitch,” he uttered, his voice a low rumble from the behind as they passed the the shadowy bushes and came out beside the marsh.

They made their way back to the car, stopping for a moment beside the open container door. Helen went inside, moving to the back to check the inhabitants against the wall. Looking around she pulled a bottle of water from the stack behind the door and gingerly opened the front of one of the cages. The creatures inside began to squawk in terror, clambering over each other as they pressed against the back trying to get away from her. She wrinkled her nose she as she reached a finger out to tug a grime encrusted yoghurt pot closer and poured some water in. Jason stood behind her, brushing his hands over his shoulders with a grimace.

“I need to call my people,” she said as she crouched down to repeat the process in the next cage. “We have to get these poor things out of here.”

“Okay,” Jason replied turning around and flicking over a piece of glass to examine the contents of a metal tray on the table. “And then what?”  
Helen stood up stiffly and sighed. “I don't know. I...I wasn't expecting this,” she answered sadly as she stared through the bars at the scrawny reptiles inside, their bones protruding sharply through their skin as they climbed over each other.

Jason nodded and ran his tongue across his teeth. He looked tired, Helen thought as she turned towards him and he raised his chin to meet her gaze with bleary eyes. They stayed like that for a moment until Jason's eyelids fluttered and he looked over her shoulder at the cages behind her.

“What are they?” he asked softly and Helen stepped back a way to let him by.

“I don't know precisely, there are several species here,” she explained as he peered through the metal bars. “I imagine they're all quite rare.” He nodded and turned to her. A drop of water fell from her soaked hair and dripped down the back of her neck. She shivered.

After a moment he sighed. “I think....I think we should get out of here,” he said mournfully and Helen nodded, looking back at the lizards once more before following him out.

Helen secured the bolts on the front of the shipping container while Jason unlocked the car and started the motor. She tapped at the screen on her phone as he reversed along the dirt track and turned the car around, the backlight illuminating her face. Jason glanced across and her eyes seemed impossibly wide and ethereally blue in the pallid glow of the display.

“Henry, where are you?” she began and he could hear the vague titter of a voice down the line. Jason turned away as she spoke, her tone at once commanding yet tender and he wondered who exactly this Henry was.

“So,” he asked after she had ended the call. “You gonna take those things? Back to your.....facility?”

“Hmm,” Helen nodded as she slipped her phone away inside her coat but didn't elaborate. Jason rubbed his lips together and steered them out of the gate and onto the road. The car shunted and bumped along the uneven surface and Helen jerked hard against her safety belt. “Honestly, this road is rough as old boots,” she complained, touching her fingers to her temple and closing her eyes for a minute, lulled by the rhythmic sweep of the wipers across the wind shield. Jason peered into the mirror and chuffed in agreement. “I need to get back to my hotel,” Helen said after a while.

Jason opened his mouth to reply but was interrupted by a loud grunt from the engine. They both turned and stared out of the glass at the rattling hood.

“Um, if we make it that far,” he said apologetically. Helen huffed and turned to look out of the window at the vague tint of blue on the horizon. Jason's mouth turned down at the corners in response to her sudden coolness.

The rain continued to sleet down, gusting in sheets across the windscreen till the wipers couldn't keep up. Jason leaned forward in his seat in an attempt to see better but the long crack across the glass obscured his vision. They slowed to a snail's pace and the engine rattled unhappily, the entire car vibrating. The car bumped heavily again as he took them over a railway crossing and Helen narrowed her eyes. He ignored her and pulled on the stick as they began a slow ascent of the slope on the other side of the tracks. The engine began to shake more vigorously as they climbed, a loud rattle emanating from underneath them. Jason shifted his feet on the pedals and there was a loud clunking noise from the hood. He pulled the stick and it squealed, the gears grunting loudly as they shifted. The Mustang lurched forward and the stick slipped back with a thwap.

“Damn it!” he cursed as he tugged on the stick again, shoving it forward roughly. He gripped onto the wheel and jabbed the gas and the engine immediately sputtered, the gears crunching and the stick slipped back again. “Holy mother... ” he growled through clenched teeth and Helen's brows shot up. She turned her face into her hand, her index finger rubbing under her nose and across her upper lip, biting her tongue. Holding the stick in position, Jason pressed on the gas again and the front of the car reared up slightly.

“Oh for goodness sake,” Helen piped up. “Don't be so rough with it!” Jason turned and gave her a look of pure hatred but she merely raised her chin and glared back undaunted. Snapping his head round he pressed the gas again and they began to move forward. The Mustang heaved and rattled and shook. The exhaust belched loudly and Helen closed her eyes at the loud gunshot sound as it backfired. The motor revved like maniacal laughter mocking them as Jason bared his teeth and pushed the pedal to the floor. There was a sudden loud bang followed by a hiss as the engine gave out and they began to roll backwards.

“Oh! God! Damn! It!” Jason snarled, yanking the handbrake aggressively and banging the palm of his hand against the wheel. He wrenched the door open angrily, the hinges squealing in complaint and stepped out. Helen flinched as the force of the door slamming behind him made the car shake and looked out of the cracked wind shield at the funnel of steam that hissed out from under the hood. Rubbing her lips together she climbed out and walked around to stand beside him as he yanked the dented metal up. They stood under the dim light of the early morning, the rain hitting the ground hard and running down towards the drains with a gurgle.

“Just great,” he muttered, flicking at the rubber seal around the inside with his middle finger while he held the hood aloft. Helen peered through the mist and shrugged imperceptibly.

“Can you fix it?” she asked. Jason huffed and let the hood fall with a noisy clunk.

“No. I can't” he told her pointedly, looking at her with a sour expression on his face. “We're going to have to walk.” Helen narrowed her eyes at him and chuffed indignantly at his tone.

“Wonderful,” she complained and crossed her arms over her chest, turning away from the car.

“Well maybe if you hadn't driven into the wall...” he began bitterly. Helen's mouth dropped open and she turned back to him.

“Oh, so this my fault I suppose?” she retorted angrily. He squinted, turned his head away and started up the street.

“They don't tend to react well to being smashed into concrete posts,” he groused. She heaved a breath in and stared after him agog.

“Perhaps if you'd done a better job on the brakes!” she snapped accusingly, following him up the hill.

“Oh please,” he barked back stepping up his pace. “You shouldn't be allowed behind the wheel!”

Helen jogged after him.

“How dare you?” she demanded, jerking him by the shoulder. He turned abruptly and towered over her menacingly. They squabbled in loud voices, the slap of the rain on the asphalt obscuring a quiet clicking sound from inside the car.

“How dare I? You crashed. My. Car!” Jason ground out as though he were speaking to a child, staring down into her angry blue eyes. Helen clenched her jaw and twisted her head from side to side and the Mustang began to slide quietly away down the hill.

“Oh, please! That rust bucket was an accident waiting to happen,” she sneered, storming away. Jason stared at the back of her head for a second before trotting after her.

“You know, when you said you were going to wreck a car, I didn't actually think you were being serious,” he prattled as he caught up with her. “Boy, did I underestimate you!” Helen stopped abruptly and pursed her lips, regarding him through slitted eyes.

“Hardly,” she mocked. “It's nothing that can't be fixed...” she gestured with her hand and turned her head towards the car. She fell silent and her eyes went wide. “Ah, Jay,” she began in a worried tone.

He stopped and turned, his arms crossed over his chest and lips pursed in irritation. “What?” he snapped but then his eyes focused and he saw his beloved Mustang rolling merrily away down the hill. “Oh, shit!”

Helen stood frozen for a second as he sprinted past, her mouth hanging open and her eyes wide. After a moment she started after him, the soles of her shoes slipping on the wet stone as Jason tore ahead and she followed as fast as her legs would take her. He jerked suddenly, his arms coming out to balance himself as his foot wedged in a crack in the road, obscured by the rain. He staggered forward and tumbled to the ground heavily. “Fuck!” Helen heard him utter and she slowed down as she caught up to him, tugging him up by the sleeves as the Mustang bumped and bounced over the railway tracks and came to a creaking stop.

She heaved a breath out, still gripping onto his shirt as he stood beside her breathing hard. Jason sucked on his lower lip and ran his hand over his face and through his beard. Helen released him and swallowed, looking up at the side of his face. “You alright?” she asked gently. Jason nodded and took a step forward, batting his thighs with the backs of his hands when a loud bell started to sound. Helen jerked her head towards the train tracks, frozen as the signal lights began to flicker and the gates began to whurr as they were lowered across the road.

“Oh, god,” Jason breathed in abject terror. “No, please!” He set off again, bouncing on one leg for a few seconds and wincing as his knee twinged from hitting the ground. The familiar chugging sound of a train began to drift along the tracks and a loud horn sounded. Helen jogged forward watching as Jason ran helplessly towards the gates. He braced himself against the metal pole across the top and Helen sprinted forward as he levered himself up and swung his leg over. She stretched her arm and grabbed at his sleeve, digging her nails in as hard as she could and jerking him back. He wobbled and tumbled backwards, pushing Helen to the ground as he fell atop her.

“Ah!” she yelped as she landed hard on her ass, the back of his shoulder smacking her in the jaw. Jason immediately began to push up, his palms flat against the sodden gritty tarmac beneath them and she flung her arms around him, pulling him back against her. “Are you insane? You're going to get yourself killed!” she screamed, her eyes wide with a deranged expression across her face.

“But my car!” he cried in despair. The train thundered along the tracks, the ground vibrating as it came closer.

“We need to move,” Helen said, shoving him forward and pushing against his back to lift herself off the ground. “Come on!” She grabbed his arm and tugged him up, dragging him away from the gate as the train approached.

Everything seemed to go very quiet for a second and then there was a loud crunch as the train barrelled into the side of the Mustang. The sound of rippling metal made Helen wince and she turned her head to the side as the car crumpled like an accordion, the train shunting it along the tracks with a grinding squeal. Jason stood stone still, staring as the Mustang slid along the tracks, the wheel catching on a railway switch and spinning off to one side. The train ploughed forward, the bumper of the car glancing on the cab with a sickening crash as the headlights burst out of their fixtures.

Helen stood behind him, her arms wrapped around his body. “We need to go,” she urged with a squeeze of her arms. Jason just stood, his arms hanging limply by his sides as the train rattled past. “Come on!” When he didn't respond she released him and stepped around his front. She pushed against his chest and he staggered back a step. “The police will be on their way, Jason. We have to go now!” He blinked and looked down at her, a blank stare across his face. Helen clasped his hand tightly in her own and started to walk briskly up the hill, Jason trailing dazedly behind.


	9. Chapter 9

Helen dragged Jason away, the toes of his boots scuffing on the stone as he moved with lumbering, heavy movements. “Come on!” she urged.

“I can't believe it,” he muttered. “I just...” he shook his head and fell silent. Helen clasped his hand firmly and set a brisk pace up the hill. Halfway up Helen turned down a track between the houses and lead him off the main road. The track was lined with garages and wooden fences, a furrow of grass running along the centre between deep tire tracks. Helen tried to skirt the great puddles that formed in the uneven ground but her boots slipped on the mud, soaking her feet. Her toes itched and she wriggled them inside her damp socks, sniffing loudly as she led him along the path.

They trudged along in silence for a while, the sound of the rain loud against the rooftops. Helen took them across another street and straight over onto a similar dirt track. She was cold and wet and longed for the huge tub in her hotel suite but they were miles across town. Jason followed silently behind her, his feet splashing noisily in the mud. She was aware of the sound of sirens in the distance and anxiously pressed her lips together, looking up and down another stretch of track that bisected their path. She glanced up at Jason with a questioning look on her face but he seemed miles away so she scowled and tutted before turning to the left with a huff. Further down, the track forked in two and Helen shrugged her shoulders and let out a loud breath.

“Do you have any idea where we are?” she asked with a sigh and when he didn't reply she turned to look up at him, a raindrop hanging from the end of his nose for a second before running down over his lips and and into his beard. “Jay?” she questioned, blowing ineffectually against a strand of hair that had stuck to her lip. “JASON!” she repeated loudly and jerked on his hand roughly. He blinked and sucked the moisture off his lips, looking around blearily.

“This is ridiculous,” she continued, digging in her pocket to retrieve her phone and turning to shelter under the narrow overhang of a tin roof that stuck out over a nearby wall.

“What are you doing?” .

“Calling a cab,” she replied, her eyes flicking up to him for a second and wiping a large raindrop from the screen with the pad of her thumb. “I'm cold, I'm hungry and I just want to get out of the rain,” she complained.

“Huh, don't bother,” he told her gruffly and Helen raised her head look at him with furrowed brows. Jason lifted his arm in response, his finger pointing in the distance behind her. “That's my house.”

 

A little while later Helen was following him up the steps at the back of his house, a wiry tabby cat shadowing them along the top of the fence as they crossed the garden. Helen stood to one side, rubbing her forearms and casting her eye across the clouds, the sky brightening as the sun began to rise behind them. There was a rapid tapping sound as water poured from the guttering overhead and down the drain with a gurgle as Jason opened the door and she followed him inside.

Jason threw his keys to one side, and they landed with a clank on the kitchen table, the cat trotting in after them and winding itself around his legs. “Hey Sweep,” he muttered absently and started to shuck off his coat. Helen stood watching for a moment, sucking her upper lip into her mouth and sniffing as she rubbed her palms across the damp skin of her face. The cat meowed pathetically, looking up expectantly at Jason as he rubbed a towel over his head and face. Helen gingerly placed her gun and her phone on the sideboard and began to loosen the belt of her coat. Jason twisted his neck to one side with a grimace and she noticed a spot of blood on the towel where it had rubbed against the cut on his head.

“Alright, alright,” Jason told the cat as it weaved about and followed him across the room. Helen draped her coat over the back of a chair and watched as he pulled a box out of the cupboard, emptying the contents into a plastic bowl in the corner. The cat butted his hand with it's head and began to purr loudly as it ate. He straightened up he ran his gaze over her, gripping the box in both hands and swallowing before he spoke. “I ah...I'll find you a towel or something,” he told her and she nodded at him, rubbing her arms against the chill.

Shoulders hunched, she walked stiffly into the next room and sat down on a chair in a corner, bending her leg up over her knee to remove her boot. She tugged it off and set it down on the floor, peeling her damp sock off with a sigh of relief. She rubbed her toes for a minute, flexing them to get the feeling back and inhaling deeply through her nose. With both her feet pressed against the wood floor, she gathered her tangled, sopping hair and pulled it up over her shoulder. The water ran in rivulets down her arms and dripped off her elbows as she squeezed. At the sound of footsteps on the stairs she let her hands drop down against her knees, her wet hair coiling like a rope around her neck and a moment later Jason entered.

“Here,” he said softly, handing her a large fluffy towel. She took it with a slight smile and flicked her gaze lazily over the t-shirt in his hands. “I um, I didn't know what you wanted to do. I mean, if you were going back to your hotel or...” he swallowed and stared at the back of the t-shirt. “But I got you some dry things, ah, if you want them.”

Helen blinked slowly and nodded. “Thank you,” she told him quietly and reached out to take the shirt from him. He smiled back and met her eyes for a brief moment before she dropped her gaze bashfully. “You should let me take a look at that cut on your head,” she said, stretching her arm up. Jason jerked his head to the side out of reach but Helen followed his movement with her hand, touching her fingertips against his skin. “Come on, there must have been all sorts living in that place,” she explained at his grimace. “We better clean it at least.”

“Okay,” he replied nodding. “Just...let me change out of these wet things.”

A little while later Helen stood in front of the bathroom mirror, her hair wrapped in the towel as she rifled through the cabinet. The hum of the dryer drifted up the stairs, the sound of rain coming through the open window beside her. She found a pair of tweezers, slightly warped from being wedged at the back of the cabinet and she turned them around in her fingers to inspect them before setting them on the side of the basin. The towel began to unravel, slipping down her back so she pulled it off and hung it over the side of the bath. Continuing her search she found some cotton wool, a half empty back of band aids and a crusty tube of antiseptic ointment. She sucked her lower lip as she considered the sorry items she had cobbled together and sighed. She had worked with worse.

Jason climbed the stairs slowly and turned his head to peer through the banisters at the open door of the bathroom. Helen's bare feet shifted on the tile and he ran his gaze up her long legs, watching as she hitched the ill-fitting shorts he had given her over her hip. His t-shirt hung loosely over her frame, obscuring her figure but when she turned to look at him he couldn't help his eyes from running over the exposed planes of her collarbone as it hung over her shoulder.

“I ah....this was the best I could find,” he said, proffering a bottle of whiskey. Helen turned and took it from him, leaning back against the sink to inspect it.

“Forty five percent,” she said with a nod. “That'll do fine. Sit down.” She gestured at the toilet and turned to shake the toothbrushes out of the glass on the corner of the basin, rinsing it under the tap for a second before pouring in a couple of inches of whiskey. Jason dropped the lid on the toilet seat and lowered himself onto it as she swirled the tweezers around in the alcohol, the tips knocking into the glass with a high pitched ring. He watched as she held a wad of cotton wool to the bottle and upended it, stepping closer and peering down her nose at the wound on the side of his head. “This will probably sting like buggery,” she warned as she pressed the sodden wool against his skin and he hissed loudly. Jason gritted his teeth and grimaced, tipping the bottle to his lips and taking a long swig. Helen turned back to the sink and picked up the glass, taking out the tweezers and setting it down on the cistern, her chest brushing against his face as she leant across. Jason's eyes went wide and he swallowed hard.

Helen straightened up and shimmied closer. His leg slipped between her thighs, her stomach pressing lightly against his bare arm. Gently tipping his head to the side she began to slowly pull miniscule shards of glass from the wound. Jason screwed his eyes tight shut as she pressed the tweezers deeper into the soft flesh inside. He took another swig from the bottle and tried not to stare at the swell of her breasts under the white fabric of the t-shirt.

“I'm sorry I let him get away,” he uttered after a few minutes, his eyes flicking up to her face. Her mouth opened slightly and the pink tip of her tongue poked out to swipe lightly across her lower lip, her breath in his ear.

“It's alright,” she told him softly as she tore open a band-aid and began to pull the skin together, sticking it across the wound like a make shift butterfly stitch. “Happens to the best of us.” She quirked a brow at him playfully and he couldn't help the smile that spread across his face. Helen's gaze dropped to the green bruise that peeked over the collar of his vest and her expression morphed from teasing to concerned. “Dear Lord!” she exclaimed, slipping her finger underneath and tugging the material away from his skin.

“Ah...it's okay,” he replied reaching up and circling her wrists with his fingers gently.

“What happened?”

“He kicked me,” Jason explained, quirking his lips and tilting his head to the side. “It's not so bad.”

“Let me see!” she said in a sharp tone and he babbled incoherently in protest as she unceremoniously tugged the vest over his head. Jason held his arms aloft as she stooped closer and prodded him in the chest.

“Ow! Careful!” he chided and her eyes flicked up to his face.

“Sorry,” she replied stroking over the bruise gently for a minute before she straightened up. “Do you have any pain in your chest?” He shook his head .

“Really, it's okay. It hurt like hell at the time but now it just aches a little,” he assured her. Helen regarded him sceptically.

“Alright,” she said quietly after a minute and sat down on the edge of the tub.

“You really shouldn't have any more of that,” she said reaching up to pull the whisky bottle from his hands and tilting it towards his bruised sternum. “It'll make it worse.”

He huffed softly and looked at her through sleepy eyes. Helen held his gaze for a minute before turning her head away and chewing on her lip, twirling the bottle in her fingers.

“Quite a day,” he said quietly. Helen nodded, shifting her legs and clasping the side of the bath.

“Hmmm,” she replied. “I'm sorry we didn't find your brother,” she said, looking at him sadly.

“Yet,” he finished for her and she smiled, chuffing at him with a flare of her nostrils. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he smiled back and his gaze fell on the yellow bruise on her cheek. “You okay? You took a few knocks yourself.”

Helen raised her chin and stuck her jaw out a little, nodding before she replied. “Nothing a good cup of tea and snooze won't cure.” Jason chuckled.

“Snooze I can do,” he said leaning forward and taking the whisky bottle from her. “As for the other thing, well....I don't have any English tea,” he told her pushing up from his seat. “But maybe I can fix you a little dirty green tea?” He waggled the bottle at her and she smiled.

“Do you have a computer?” she called after him as he made his way down the stairs.

“Yeah, in the bedroom,” he replied through the banisters, gesturing down the hall. “Go ahead.”

 

Helen sat at his desk and peered through window as the computer beeped and whirred to life, pushing the curtains aside with her fingers and cricking her neck. She rested her elbow on the table, leaning her chin in her hand and began to read. A few minutes later Jason returned set a steaming mug beside her, tipping another to his lips and taking a loud slurp.

“Thanks,” she said wrapping her hands around the porcelain and raising it to her face, inhaling the hot vapor for a moment before sipping it. “Ah, that's nice,” she sighed, looking up at him through lazy, slitted eyes. He smiled and nodded his head towards the screen.

“What you doing?” he asked, turning and moving across the room to sit on the edge of the bed. Helen swivelled in the chair to face him, crooking her knee up and bringing her foot to rest on the seat as she spoke.

“Just a bit of reading,” she explained. “Monitor lizards.”

“What? Those things back there?” Jason asked, his eyes roaming across the smooth skin of her thigh as he took a long swig of his whiskey and hot water. Helen licked her lips and nodded.

“Yes I...”she began, turning back to the screen. “I don't think there's anything especially abnormal about them. I can't be sure...”

Jason emptied his cup and slid back across the bed to rest it on a small chest of drawers against the wall. “Uh huh,” he uttered, crossing his arms behind his head.

“...but I think I recognise some of our friends at the shipping yard in these pictures and if that's the case, well....I don't know for certain but then it means our friend Worrall, while himself an abnormal, was actually just dealing in illegally imported reptiles as a side to his more conventional trade in narcotics. I'm thinking methamphetamine judging by the equipment we found,” she prattled, scrolling through the blurb on the screen. “Well that or he was just.....” she paused and wrinkled her nose up in distaste as she finished. “..eating them.”

Jason was quiet and when she turned around he was laid out on the bed fast asleep. Helen sighed and smiled softly, pushing up off the chair she reached for a blanket folded at the foot of the bed and began to spread it out over him. It did look very comfortable, she mused, pulling the rug up over his bare chest and and eyeing his toned arms. She let her gaze run across the lopsided band-aid on the side of his head - he seemed much less fearsome in repose. Her eyes were a little dry from reading off the computer, she thought, trying to suppress a yawn and failing, chewing her lip thoughtfully for a moment before lifting the rug and sliding in beside him.


	10. Chapter 10

Jason shifted under the blanket and twisted to the side, his face pressing into the pillow. His nose twitched and he reached up to rub his finger across his lip, his eyes opening wide when he found his hand in Helen's hair. Her head was tucked in under his chin, his arm buried under her neck and he swallowed as he ran his eyes down to find her flush against his body, her round ass pressing dangerously into his groin. He opened his mouth and took a deep, calming breath, staring at the wall and rubbing his free hand across his forehead as he considered that his first instinct about this woman had been correct. She was definitely, undeniably, categorically trouble.

Helen squirmed against him and muttered something incomprehensible in her sleep, her legs shifting so that her ass ground against him torturously. Jason closed his eyes and laid his arm flat against his side, clenching his fist to prevent himself from running his hand across the tempting swell of her hip. She shifted again, her hand coming up to grasp at his arm, trying to move it about under her head as though it were a pillow. He used the opportunity to roll onto his back and slightly away from her, clenching his eyes tightly shut and willing himself back to sleep.

Helen clawed at the pillow under her head. It was decidedly hard and uncomfortable as she pressed her face into it and she scowled. Her nose nudged the inside of his elbow, the masculine scent of him filling her nostrils and her eyes opened slowly. Groggily, she rolled onto her front, her nose brushing up the inside of his bicep as she turned her head. Oh my, she thought as her legs brushed against his. This is most.....awkward, a voice in her head told her as her eyes roamed across Jason's broad, toned chest and she couldn't help from stretching her fingers out to brush lightly against his side. His skin was unbearably soft and warm and she licked her lips, chewing on them thoughtfully as she regarded his sleeping countenance. He sniffed and she shut her eyes quickly, twisting her head so that her face pressed close against his shoulder. It was unconscionable, she really ought to leave him be but it had been a long time since she'd had the pleasure of snuggling up against a warm, male body and the compulsion was irresistible. Feigning sleep she let her arm snake across his stomach and around his hip, nuzzling his skin and unable to contain the soft sigh that escaped her.

Cracking open one eye Helen peered across his chest, an erect pink nipple just level with her eyeball and after a moment's hesitation, she let her hand slide up to stroke through the coarse dark hair that peppered his torso. Jason shifted a little and she crooked her knee, her thigh sliding across his so that she was now pressed snugly against him. His hip bone pressed firmly between her legs, nudging against her center and Helen ached to rub against him. She swallowed and listened to the steady rhythm of his breathing, the rise and fall of his chest equal parts soothing and arousing as the slippery fabric of the shorts he had given her rubbed against her mound. Biting back a moan, Helen tried to take a few calming breaths. She wasn't sure how he might respond to her unsolicited caresses although she had noticed his appreciative gaze more than once since they first met hours ago.

Her eyes flew open. Hours, she had only known this man a few hours and here she was draped across him half dressed, considering how best to approach the rather delicate matter of getting into his jeans. She closed her eyes again, silently chastising herself and exhaling loudly. Her hot breath brushed across his nipple and he let out a gasp as a jolt of arousal shot through his body straight to his groin.

Helen's eyes opened at the sound and her brows furrowed as she realised he had been awake the entire time. She turned her head to look at his face through narrowed eyes. The sneaky bastard, she fumed and slipped her hand across his torso to pinch his nipple in revenge. Jason's eyes flew open and he yelped in surprised, panting ever so slightly and turning his head to meet her devilish gaze. “Helen,” he croaked. “This is a...uh...surprise.”

“Hmm,” she chuffed sceptically, her nose pressed against the curved muscle of his chest as her fingers drummed against his ribcage. Jason let his head fall back against the pillow and took a few short, rasping breaths, his tongue worrying his lower lip. Helen watched his Adam's Apple bob in his throat and pursed her lips before pushing up to roll across him, pinning him between her long, powerful legs. Her palms pressed flat against the pillow either side of his head and she glared down at him, her hair curling wildly around her face and down her shoulders.

Jason looked up into her huge blue eyes and stared at her for a long moment, transfixed. She was impossibly gorgeous, this crazy mysterious woman and let his eyes wander down across the long column of her neck, over the delicate bones in her shoulder and longed to dip his tongue into the notch at the base of her throat. Helen regarded him through slitted eyes and watched as his pink tongue poked out to swipe across his lips, unable to resist shifting her hips against him as she wondered how the rough fuzz of his beard would feel scratching against the tender flesh of her inner thigh. She clenched her hands into fists, her nails scraping loudly against the fabric of the pillow behind his head as she spoke.

“How long have you been awake?” she growled and he swallowed again, huffing out a nervous breath.

“Oh, a little while,” Jason responded meekly and gave her a contrite smile. Helen's lips curved up evilly, gratified by his submissive tone and let her hands slide her hands across his torso as she sat upright. Jason bit his tongue as her hips pressed against him and his hands moved ever so slightly across her knees to rest on her thighs. Helen quirked a brow at him thoughtfully.

“You fell asleep,” she explained in low tones. “I was just....making sure you weren't cold.”

“By getting into bed with me?” he asked, amused. Helen raised her chin and shook her hair out of her face. She shrugged her shoulders in phoney indifference but couldn't help emitting a little “Oh” of breath when the slippery fabric of her shorts slid across his hard lump in his jeans. Jason groaned and let his fingers dig into the flesh of her thighs for a second before sliding his hands up across her soft, skin to grip her hips. He reached one hand around to press against the small of her back and the other came up between her shoulder blades as he pulled himself upright suddenly and held her in a firm grasp.

“What are you doing?” he said menacingly and Helen huffed indignantly, her hands flying up to grip his shoulders.

“What am I doing?” she retorted in an irritated tone, her breath tickling his face. “You were the one pretending to be asleep!”

Jason narrowed his eyes at her and she squirmed in his embrace, her erect nipples scraping across his bare chest through the thin fabric of her t-shirt. He groaned loudly, his eyes losing focus as her mound rubbed against his erection through his pants. Helen's mouth fell open and she grimaced as pleasure shot up through her abdomen, her clit throbbing hotly between her legs. “Oh my,” she gasped.

Jason reached down to her ass, cupping one pert, round cheek and squeezing. “Don't tease,” he warned looking her straight in the eye and Helen tightened her grip on his shoulders, digging her nails into his flesh before sliding one hand around the back of his head and pulling him closer. She pressed her lips against his mouth and hungrily sucked on his lips and Jason let his free hand slide up to tangle in her hair as her hot tongue pressed against his mouth insistently until her it snaked into his mouth, warm and wet. He wrapped his arms around her tightly and kissed for all he was worth and Helen growled happily, shoving him back roughly by the shoulders.

He fell onto the pillows with a huff of surprise but before he could protest her lips descended on him again. Jason let his hands slide around her waist and trailed his fingertips lightly against the soft skin of her back and she jerked into his touch as one hand skimmed around her side to cup her breast. She squirmed against him and shrugged her shoulders as he pulled her t-shirt over her head. His eyes immediately fell to the lush mounds of her breasts and her eyes closed as he ran his fingers gently across her pert nipples, her head tipping back with a long sigh as he gently pinched them between the V of his fingers. Her nails scraped lightly across his chest as she twisted her hips in a circle against the bulge in his jeans. Jason groaned, his eyes narrowing to slits as she leaned back across him, her breath coming in short, sharp pants and she chewed on her lower lip as she peered down at him.

“You are so....” he began but she cut him off with another wet kiss. Leaning forward, she grasped his hands and guided them down to her hips. Jason hooked his fingers under the elastic of her shorts and she pushed up on her knees as he tugged them down across her thighs, gazing at him with sleepy eyes from between the tangled locks of hair that fell about her face. She smiled softly as she lifted her leg to kick the shorts across the bed, settling back against him and stroking her hands through the coarse hair on his chest.

“Helen,” he uttered softly, his eyes trailing after his fingertips as he caressed down across her breasts, over the soft swell of her stomach to the dark thatch of curls between her legs. Her stomach twitched at the shock of static that his touch elicited and she sighed before leaning forward, grasping the metal bedstead and looking down to watch as he pressed his face in the valley between her breasts. She moaned languidly and let her eyes fall closed as Jason ran his lips across her soft skin, pressing the flat of his tongue along the crease under her breast before sucking a nipple into his mouth. One hand stroked lazily up her thigh and around her hip, his fingers brushing the crease of her buttocks as he gripped her round cheek in his palm.

Helen jerked at the contact, tipping her hips back into his hand and he stroked his fingers down between the curls of her pubic hair.

“Oh please,” she drawled, peering down at his face as she pushed herself up to a sitting position. Jason licked his lips and let his hand stroke back round, trailing across her hip bone to slip between her legs. His other hand moved up across her back and around her neck, his fingers running through her hair and across her cheek as he pressed his thumb between the soft folds of her pussy to find her deliciously wet. Helen turned her face into his hand and sucked his thumb into her mouth and he groaned.

“You are so sexy,” he breathed, his chest rising and falling rapidly and Helen hummed in response, cradling his fingers in her tongue and pressing her hips into his touch. He circled her clit lazily with his thumb, stroking back and forth across her centre before pushing one finger inside. She jerked, bearing down against his hand with a cry and he chuckled. He watched her through slitted eyes as she rocked up and down, his gaze running over her beautiful round breasts and up to her face, twisted in pleasure as he slipped his wet fingers across her aching flesh to stroke across her puckered anus and back again.

Helen's eyes flew open and she scratched her fingernails over the skin on his shoulders. “Now who's teasing?” she groused playfully, sucking her lower lip into her mouth. Jason pouted at her and pressed two fingers inside in retaliation, twisting his wrist and smirking victoriously at her shuddering gasp.

Helen ran her palms down across his chest, scraping her nails lightly over his sensitive nipples and leaning forward to press a kiss to his lips. Jason slipped his tongue into her mouth briefly, huffing in protest when she pulled away. She nuzzled his beard with the tip of her nose and trailed kisses across his jaw and down his neck. Her fingers stroked down his sides gently and his stomach twitched as her nails scraped the sensitive spots where his stomach gave way to his hips. His eyes fell closed and he curled his fingers into her hair, his other hand slipping from between her legs to trail wetly across her hip as she slid down over his body.

Helen grinned at him wickedly as she cupped his straining erection through his pants and he exhaled loudly, groaning at the hot bolts pleasure that coursed through his body straight to his cock. Slowly she began to unbutton his jeans, her elegant fingers working his fly and scraping teasingly across his hipbones as she pulled the material down. She raised an eyebrow at his lack of underwear but Jason was too turned on to notice, unable to focus on anything but her hot breath on his aching cock. Helen pushed up on her arms for a moment as she inspected her latest discovery, sucking her lip into her teeth as she admired the gentle curve of his erection, the swollen tip glistening and red. He was deliciously thick and she groaned at the thought of him filling her, the muscles of her pussy clenching with anticipation.

He watched through slitted eyes as she nuzzled the coarse hair at the base of his cock, her tongue snaking out to swipe teasingly along the underside of his balls. “Ah, Jesus!” he cried, his hips jerking off the bed as she sucked on them one at a time before pressing little kisses along the base of his erection. He twitched at the contact and she chuckled, leaning forward and pressing the flat of her tongue against his swollen flesh to run her tongue from base to tip in one long, wet lick.

“Fuck!” he uttered, gasping in great shuddering breaths as her warm tongue circled around the head of his cock, flicking at the ridge at the tip before she took him in deeply. She twisted her head around from side to side as her lips slid up and down torturously over him, her hum of pleasure reverberating through his entire body. His hands flew up to tangle in her hair as he hit the back of her throat and he watched open mouthed as her head bobbed up and down, around and around, over and over.

He clutched at the bed sheets, willing his hips not to thrust but the instinct was too strong, the pleasure too overwhelming. He swallowed, his eyes falling shut and he clenched his teeth, tugging roughly on her hair. “Stop! Stop,” he choked and she let him slide from between her lips with a wet smack before peering up at him, her face flushed and her eyes wide. “Come here,” he urged sounding utterly stricken and Helen pushed up on her knees towards him. Jason cupped her face in his hands and kissed her fiercely, wrapping one arm around her and pressing her close against his chest. Helen moaned into his mouth and stroked her nails gently across his scalp until he pulled away, lying back across the bed and cupping her ass firmly again. She peered down at his wild expression as he urged her up his body, her pussy trailing wetly across his torso, the hairs on his chest tickling her center as she clasped the metal bedstead in her fingers. It creaked as she pulled herself forward and she gasped loudly as he kissed his way up her thigh, his beard scratching deliciously against her quivering flesh as his mouth sucked wetly across her skin.

“Oh fuck,” he mumbled as his mouth pressed hotly over the soft pink lips of her pussy and Helen jerked uncontrollably against his face, the bedstead creaking loudly as her arms tensed at the pleasure. She began to moan uncontrollably as he gripped her hip firmly with one hand as the other ran up the side over her body, cupping her breast for a moment before sliding up around her neck and across her face. Her breath was hot against his palm as he buried his fingers in her hair, her head tipping back as she let out a long wail of pleasure. Her circled her clit over and over before sucking it fully between his lips, the bedstead squealing in protest as Helen yanked it away from the wall.

“Oh my, oh Juh..,” she cooed dropping her head to her chin to peer down at him with dark eyes, her mouth falling open as she watched him between her thighs. His hands dropped to cup her ass again and he squeezed, parting her cheeks with his fingers. She shuddered as the cool air hit the burning heat of her wet pussy and he nuzzled her clit with his nose as his tongue slipped inside her. Arousal coiled in her belly, her breath coming in loud, rasping pants and she let her hand drop to stroke across his face. She twisted her hips in a circle and Jason moaned in delight, his eyes falling closed as he swirled his tongue across her clit over and over. Helen inhaled a sharp breath as her orgasm crawled ever closer, tension coiling in her limbs until eventually she arched her back, gripping madly onto the bedstead. Her head fell back and she let out a long, shuddering moan, her hips jerking uncontrollably as pleasure spiked through her as she came.

Lazily, Helen slipped down across his chest and slumped to one side, breathing hard as she buried her face in his shoulder. Jason grinned against her hair, one hand stroking across the back of the head, the other running up and down her side. Pushing up on her elbow Helen regarded him through hooded eyes, her mouth falling open as she took loud huffs of breath. Her eyes fell to his lips and she swallowed, reaching out to run her fingertips through the fuzz of his beard. Jason sucked her fingers into his mouth and looked at her with a dark expression, running his palm across her arm and into her hair. Helen squinted at him, licking her lips as she reached forward and cupped his face in her hands.

He was wound tight like a spring and Helen could feel his heart thrumming in his chest as she moved to straddle his chest again, pressing her mouth to his with a satisfied hum. She pushed up on her forearms and trailed her fingertips over his face gently, sucking on the inside of her cheek as she considered prone form beneath her, his dark and lustful stare. She chewed on her lower lip and let her eyes follow the path of her hands as she scraped her nails along his arms towards his shoulders, stroking along his collarbone and wrapping her hands lightly around his throat. Jason began to pant wildly and she could feel his Adam's Apple bob under her palms. She pursed her lips and looked at his face through slitted eyes, smiling wickedly as she began to caress down his chest. Her fingers traced across his nipples lightly, down around his sides and she bent forward to pepper kisses across his chest as her wet center brushed teasingly over his throbbing erection.

He gasped and jerked his hips up instinctively so Helen pushed up onto her knees and gave him a lazy smile as her fingers wrapped around the base of him. The head of his cock slipped torturously across her sensitive, wet folds to nudge her clit, still tingling from her earlier orgasm and she moaned softly. Slowly she raised her hips and his cock trailed hotly along her entrance to slide between the crease of her ass and back again and they both hissed at the pleasure of it.

“Jesus,” he uttered through clenched teeth, beads of sweat visible over his brow as she teased him and Helen chuckled, leaning forward slightly to grip the head of the bed once more before sinking down slowly onto him. Jason's eyes slipped shut as his head fell back against the pillow, his hands coming to rest on her hips as she began to move over him. Helen watched his expression, the look of ecstasy painted across his face made her ache as she gripped the bedstead and pulled up, squeezing her muscles around him as she did so before releasing him and sliding back down hard, making him groan. She fucked him slowly for a while, the room quiet but for the sound of their heavy breathing and the hush of rain outside the window.

Jason let his eyes fall to where they were joined and watched with dark eyes as she sank down onto his swollen cock over and over. He exhaled loudly, a long shuddering breath and moved his hands around to squeeze her ass, his fingers kneading the smooth round cheeks firmly making her gasp and moan in delight as she began to move faster. Helen ground against him furiously, her eyes screwing shut tightly and the bedstead thumping against the wall loudly as she gripped it tightly. Jason gripped her ass, his strong arms guiding her up and down as the bed creaked with the force her movements. His mouth formed an O and he began to pant, short sharp breaths as his thighs and stomach tingled, his balls clenching as pleasure started to seep through his body to pool around groin. He swallowed hard and slipped his hand between their bodies, stroking his thumb over her clit in ragged strokes, urging her on in low, rumbling tones. Helen screwed her face up and whined, pouting her lips as she began to jerk against him erratically. Jason wrapped his free hand around the back of her neck and thrust his hips upwards, his thick cock banging into her with a hard wet slap. Helen choked out a sob and cried out, her hands falling to his shoulders to dig her nails into his flesh as his thumb dragged over her throbbing clit once more and she came. Jason gasped as her muscles clenched around his cock, pounding into her with sloppy wet thrusts as she sagged forward slightly, trembling as another orgasm rippled through her body. Her eyes opened and she peered down at him, her hair falling forward around her face and their gazes met for a brief moment before he shuddered and came hotly inside her, his head lifting off the pillows before he collapsed back against them with a long, guttural moan.

Helen hummed lazily and reached forward, nuzzling his face with her nose and pressing her lips to his mouth. Jason's arms came up to wrap around her, his fingers winding through her hair as she kissed him slowly for a long minute before she unceremoniously slouched to the side and fell asleep, the soft buzz of her snore in his ear.


	11. Chapter 11

Helen gradually became aware of a soft nudging against her cheek, a loud purr in her ear and opened her eyes to find the cat perched elegantly on the bed beside her. It opened its mouth and made a pathetic, croaky meow and reached forward again to butt its head against her. Helen pushed up on her elbows, Jason's arm stretching across her waist and his head buried against her hair as it curled wildly across the pillows. Jason shifted as she sat up, sniffing and rolling onto his back. The cat padded across her legs and she pressed her fingers in the soft fur behind its ears. 

“Ah, cat...” Jason groused as it stepped heavily onto his stomach and walked across his torso, wincing as soft paws pressed against the bruise on his chest. The cat meowed more purposefully and Jason rubbed its head between his palms as he sat up. “Alright, alright,” he told it, sliding a hand under its stomach and lifting it haphazardly to the floor. “Good morning,” he said, leaning to one side and pressing his nose against Helen's bare shoulder, smiling at her as he turned and dropped his feet to the floor. 

“Afternoon,” Helen replied with a mild grin, tipping her chin towards the clock beside the bed. He chuffed and took a couple of wobbly steps forward. The cat jogged happily towards the door, tail erect and stopped to look back at Jason as he hopped a couple of steps, bending his knee up to pull up his jeans Helen chuckled and he turned to her with a mock glare. 

“You want some breakfast?” he croaked, his voice rough with sleep and Helen's stomach growled in response. She shrugged a shoulder and slipped out of the bed, wrapping the blanket around her as she followed him down the stairs.

Helen peered round the doorway into the kitchen to see the cat sitting elegantly on the floor beside Jason, her eyes falling to his bare backside as he spooned cat food into a dish. “There, that should keep you happy for a while, you little bastard,” he told the creature, stroking its ears for a second before straightening up. He turned and met Helen's amused stare. “What? You don't talk to your animals?” Helen furrowed her brow thoughtfully, pursing her lips as she tilted her head to one side.   
Jason shook his head and raised his hand. “No, don't answer that,” he said before she could reply and smiled at her playfully as he crossed the room and opened the fridge. “I don't have have much in,” he explained as she shuffled across the floor towards him, the blanket catching around her feet. “Eggs?” he asked, pulling out box and hooking a carton of milk in his index finger. Helen stepped into the circle of his arms as he turned around and he wrapped them around her as she kissed him.

They staggered back a few steps and Helen hummed against his mouth, chuckling as Jason tripped on the blanket and pressed her against the counter. She pulled back and smiled at him, placing her palms against his chest when he chased her with his lips, craning his neck down to reach her and squeezing her tightly. “Feed me first,” she protested, squirming in his embrace and he laughed, a low rumbling sound that went straight to her crotch and made her shiver. 

“Alright,” he conceded with a lazy smile and released her to pad barefoot across the kitchen to the stove. Helen admired his body as he bent over to pull a pan out of the cupboard, the muscles in his back flexing appealingly as he straightened up again. She watched for few moments as he dropped some oil into the pan before turning to gaze out of the window at the garden beyond. She turned and shuffled forward, the gentle hiss and crackle of frying eggs filling her ears and she exhaled slowly, peering through the glass with lazy eyes.

“Maybe you could make some toast?” Jason told her idly and she turned to find him leaning with his hip against the cooker, the spatula tapping lightly against his bicep. Helen smiled and shuffled closer and his eyes dropped to the knot on the front of the sheet around her body as she leant forward to drop two slices of bread into the toaster. Helen reached up on tip toes and pressed a playful kiss to his lips, rubbing the tip of her nose against his. The spatula fell to the floor with a clatter as Jason shoved her up on the counter and spread her legs, the back of her head knocking against the cupboard as his tongue delved between her thighs. A spot of fat spat hotly out of the pan and stung her on the hip as the eggs sizzled, forgotten on the stove.

After becoming intimately familiar with the swirling pattern on the carpet as Jason ground into her from behind, Helen sat on his lap on the floor eating toast as the eggs sat untouched in the pan, their edges brown and crisp like burnt plastic. She dropped head back against his shoulder while he idly fondled her breasts and let out a long sigh as Jason hummed lazily into her ear.

“You. Are. Gorgeous,” he told her, punctuating each word with a kiss to her neck. She squirmed in his arms and she smiled against the crust of bread between her lips. “You must get told that all the time.” Helen didn't answer, just turned her head away and stroked up and down his forearms, the coarse hair on his skin tickling her palm. “Hmm?” Jason said gently, reaching up and cupping her cheek and turning her head back to look at her face. Helen's lips curved up at the edges and she peered at him through lazy, slitted eyes, worrying the edge of the bread against her lips with a cheeky smile. 

“You're not so bad yourself,” she grumbled, playfully jerking his chin from side to side, dragging her fingers into his beard and rubbing them across the corners of his lips as she crunched on the last mouthful of bread. Jason bared his teeth and nipped at her fingertips.

“Let's just stay right here, all day,” he said craning his neck and pressing her head closer, slanting his lips over her mouth. Helen laughed and squirmed in his embrace, chuckling as she tried to brush the crumbs away from her mouth against his insistent kiss. She turned in his lap and held his head in her hands, kissing him hungrily and as his hands slid down to squeeze at her ass her phone began to vibrate loudly on the countertop across the room. Jason pouted his lips as she made to stand, so she let the round swell of her backside brush tauntingly in his face as she rose. He growled and squeezed her cheeks as she stepped away, grinning from ear to hear as she picked up her phone.

“Henry!” she exclaimed as she put it to her ear, leaning back against the counter to watch as Jason pulled himself to his feet and jabbed at the ruined eggs on the stove. He crossed to the bin and the eggs dropped into the bag with a splat. “Yes, alright. Hmmm. No actually perhaps it's better if I meet you at the hotel. Oh, I see,” Helen chattered to the voice at the other end of the line and turned her head to peer into the front room at the sound of a heavy knocking on the door. 

Jason paused for a moment and gave her a concerned look which she returned with a wide eyed quirk of her brow. He licked his lips and cleared his throat before stepping out of the kitchen towards it.

“Alright, well....I'm at...” Helen turned to look around for some evidence to her location, stooping to pull the sheet around her bare form there was another more insistent knock on the door. “Thirteen oh eight Burnt Oak Drive,” she read from a utility bill stuck behind the fruit bowl. “Okay, uh huh” she replied as Henry babbled down the phone, quietly padding into the front room. Through the slats of the blinds across the window she could just make out the black and white of a police car parked on the street in front of the house. “Bollocks,” she said quietly, the soft murmuring of voices wafting through the closed door. “Oh, no, not you Henry darling. It's just.....actually, Henry, if you wouldn't mind I have a better idea....”

 

Jason smiled anxiously, rubbing his palm across his bare chest and squashing his hand under his armpit in an attempt to obscure the enormous bruise on his torso. Two cops, a thin one and a slightly overweight one were silhouetted by the bright sun behind and Jason squinted, trying to concentrate as they spoke.

“Mr Treesee?” the thin cop said in a grim tone.

“Ah, Tracey, it's pronounced Tracey,” Jason replied with a nervous smile. “Can I er, help you?” 

He could not help noticing as they both lowered the gazes, their eyes flicking from the blue shape on his chest before glancing back at each other. 

“Mr Treesee do you own a nineteen sixty Seven Ford Mustang color dark green registration D H D 2...” Fat Cop intoned in a flat voice, a sour look on his face as he read from a pad in his hand .

“Ah, yes, yes, that's my car,” Jason said forcing a particularly cheerful grin. “Has something happened?”he asked, clearing his throat a little.

“Ah Mr Treesee, there was an incident early this morning at the railway crossing on Fitzgerald Street...” Fat Cop began to explain, flipping the pad shut and stowing it in his breast pocket.

“Oh yeah?” Jason said, crossing his arms tightly and shifting from foot to foot.

“Sir it seems your car was parked across the crossing when a train came along and...”

Jason raised his brows and tried to look surprised as the cop spoke, ignoring the itch on the side of his head where the band aid was peeling away. 

“...well sir, as you can imagine there was quite a lot of damage.”

“Sheesh! Oh my....ah...god!” Jason exclaimed, sucking his lower lip into his mouth. “Is...ah...was anybody hurt?”

“No sir,” Thin Cop answered dourly as Fat Cop craned his neck around the door to peer inside the house.

“Sir, do you have any idea how your vehicle came to be parked across the train tracks?” Thin Cop asked, digging his fingers into his belt and straightening up to fix Jason with a stern look.

“Ah...oh right, yeah....” Jason began, his eyes wide as he chewed his lip for a moment. “Yeah...I ah....was driving.....home!” he explained in what he hoped was a pleasant tone only to be met with a stoney glare from the two cops on his porch. “I was ah...driving home....late last night and I ah....we broke down!” Jason lifted his chin, looking from one to the other.

“You broke down?” Fat cop repeated flatly. Jason pursed his lips and nodded.

“Hmm mmm, that's right. We broke down....on Fitzgerald Street....you know that hill!” he uttered breathily in a playful tone. “And so....we left car and walked home. I was gonna come back today and ah....pick it up.” 

“We?” Fat Cop asked, quirking a brow. Jason turned to him and stared at him blankly for a minute.

“Yesss,” Jason replied. “My ah.....companion....and I.”

“And may with speak with your....companion? Sir?” Thin cop asked insistently. Jason swallowed and jerked his head around birdlike for a second before plastering a cheesy grin across his face and taking a step back. 

“Sure...ah this way,” he said, reaching to turn the handle of the door to the front room of the house. Behind him the two cops exchanged a look before stepping inside. 

Jason entered the lounge ahead of them and grabbed his t shirt from where it hung over the back of a chair and pulled it over his head. He stared at the white wood of the door that separated the two rooms and hoped that Helen had had the good sense to move her gun from the counter. As he turned to rap gently on the door he noticed her clothes were missing from the heater on the wall.

“Ah, Helen, honey,” he called and chuffed in mock irritation as the two cops stared at him unamused. “Sweetheart, we have a visitors. Two gentleman from the police are here about the ca-ar,” he said in a sing song voice to the door. “She's ah...probably getting dressed,” he explained with a toothy grin. “We had...a late breakfast.” Jason was smiling so hard his jaw was starting to ache.

The two cops stood watching him stone faced. The clock on the wall ticked loudly and Jason coughed before turning back to the door and knocking firmly. “Helen!” he said in a loud voice and the two cops exchanged a look as he turned his back on them to open the door a crack and peer into the kitchen for a moment before he opened it wide abruptly and stepped inside.

Jason's brows shot up as he entered, stooping to pick the bedsheet from where it lay in a crumpled heap on the floor and looked up to see Sweep sitting in the open back door aggressively cleaning her rear end. “Son of a bitch!” he exclaimed as he straightened up and took a couple of brisk steps towards it. “Helen?” he shouted as he reached the doorway. “Hey!” he yelled down the garden at the sight of her retreating figure slipping through the gap in the hedge followed by the sound of the gate clattering loudly shut behind her.

“Unbelievable!” he huffed and instinctively set off at a sprint after her, jumping over the cat who startled and turned around in quick circles before skittering up the fence in terror as the two cops came bursting out onto the porch in pursuit. 

“HELEN!” Jason bawled as he exited the gate onto the muddy track behind the house to see her running at full speed up the hill towards a black van that waited at the top. “HELEN YOU GET YOUR ASS BACK HERE RIGHT NOW!” he screeched at the top of his lungs, his bare feet splashing in the muddy depressions that littered the ground. Helen reached the van and heaved the sliding door open, climbing inside and turning to look down the path behind her as the engine revved. She wore a look of contrition and gave a brief shrug of her shoulders before the van pulled away, its tires squealing loudly in the mud before it disappeared around the corner. 

Jason came to a staggering halt and smacked his palms against his bald head, wincing slightly as he knocked the band aid askew, a thin trail of blood trickling hotly down the side of his face. He started in surprise as something hard impacted him from behind, a loud “Oof!” of breath escaping his lungs as his face impacted with a wet pool of mud. Jason groaned in discomfort as the cop straddled his back and twisted his arms behind him, bellowing loudly in his ear but he could have been saying anything because at that moment the only thing Jason could think of was how he was absolutely, positively going to kill Helen Magnus.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Apologies for the delay in updating. I have no excuse but that other fics took over my brain.


End file.
